


A World That I’m Not Privy To

by LadyDae



Series: Privy Universe [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ahsoka Tano Didn't Leave the Jedi Order, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anakin Skywalker Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side, Established Relationship, Eventual Relationships, Fix-It of Sorts, Mace Windu is So Done, Multi, Open Relationships, Padmé Amidala Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:34:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 56,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28156914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDae/pseuds/LadyDae
Summary: Four years after Palpatine was ousted as the Sith Lord who helped to manufacture the Separate Crisis and the Clone War, Anakin Skywalker is ready to let go of the war. He finally makes the decision to leave the Jedi Order, much to the ambivalence of the two most important women in his life—Padmé Amidala and Ahsoka Tano.Padmé fully expected that Anakin would never leave the Jedi Order. Ahsoka never expected that Anakin would ask her to come with him when he finally did decide to leave. Neither are sure they want the idea that Anakin has proposed to maintain his relationship with both. But first, Anakin takes one more mission and goes missing. Uncertain as they are about the future, one thing Padmé and Ahsoka know is that neither wants a future without Anakin Skywalker.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Anakin Skywalker/Ahsoka Tano, Padmé Amidala & Ahsoka Tano, Padmé Amidala/Ahsoka Tano, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker/Ahsoka Tano
Series: Privy Universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2062785
Comments: 376
Kudos: 273





	1. An Unorthodox Arrangement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Padmé was unprepared for Anakin to admit he was ready to leave the Jedi Order...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody, and happy holidays if you are celebrating anything this season. I hope you all are safe. Here I bring you this new fic to bring warmth to your souls, if not warmth to the temperature outside (in the US at least). 
> 
> Padmé and Ahsoka are the stars of this fic. I wanted to give my two favorite prequel ladies some love because they both deserved better in canon. Full disclosure that this ends as an OT3 fic, but if you like Anidala or Anisoka or both (like me) come along for the ride anyway. There are some mentions and allusions to underage sex but nothing explicit. For the bulk of this fic, everyone is over 18. That's all for now. Enjoy!

“I think I’m ready to leave the Order.”

Of all the things that could have been bothering her husband and kept him uncharacteristically quiet the night before, _that_ hadn’t been what Padmé Naberrie Skywalker expected. And because she hadn’t been expecting it, because she’d resigned herself to a life of sharing her husband with the Order that he couldn’t seem to break himself away from, Padmé had no response to that. She was better prepared for Anakin to admit that he might never leave the Order. Something she wouldn’t have been angry about. As much as Padmé loved Anakin and her children, she didn’t think she’d ever leave the Senate. She’d serve for as long as the queen and Naboo wanted.

Silence followed.

When that silence got to be too much, Anakin said, “Padmé. Did you hear me?”

“I…” Padmé paused. Then shook her head and started brushing her hair again. Honesty and openness was always the best policy in their marriage. If it was a secret they didn’t have to keep, they didn’t hide it. That was the first rule of their marriage.

“Of course I heard you. I just wasn’t expecting that this morning is all." Padmé set her brush down. “What brought this on?”

“I don’t know I… I’ve just been thinking about it for a while now.”

Padmé saw Anakin run an uncertain hand through his hair. A nervous habit of his when he was trying to find the right words for what he was feeling. Words had never come easy to her husband. Padmé could have found it frustrating. But he tried. And he’d gotten better over the seven years of their marriage. It was endearing.

Padmé began to pin and style her hair for the day as she patiently waited for Anakin to figure out what he wanted to say. Something else she’d learned over the years was that it was better not to rush him or try to pry the words out of him. It would only frustrate him more and make him shut down.

“You know, for all its problems and my issues with the Council and some of their outdated rules and traditions… I like being a Jedi. I’ve been able to do a lot of good being a Jedi. A lot more than I’d ever be able to accomplish on my own. And with the war over, they’ve even let me take up my own social projects.”

One of those social projects being the aid he gave to the Liberty Resistance in the Outer Rim. Technically, he was breaking centuries-old treaties with the Hutts and the Outer Rim in giving his aid. But also technically, as a sole actor, it couldn’t reflect back on the Republic. Padmé sighed. The fact that they even had to consider those things, even long after the end of the war and Palpatine’s demise frustrated her to no end. She wished she could be out in the galaxy helping Anakin. But they both had their roles. She stayed in the Senate, both overtly and covertly gathering support. He worked from the ground.

Anakin added, “You know. When I’m not working on my other missions.”

“But.”

“I’m tired of this double life. I’m tired of all these secrets. I’m tired of feeling like… What if someone tries to force me to choose between you and the Order for their own leverage, again?” Anakin asked quietly.

He still hadn’t gotten over the way Palpatine cultivated a friendship between them with the sole purpose of using him to build an Empire. He defaulted to anger and bitterness like he always did because it was easier for him. On most days. But Padmé also knew it was more complicated than that. That a part of Anakin still saw Palpatine as his friend. That some days, like today, he was simultaneously unsure about the reality of what happened. And terrified. Terrified that someone who seemed so kind and to have his best interests at heart, who had been his least complicated relationship, had ultimately been that way to gain use of his power.

Padmé hadn’t gotten over it either. But her opinion was a lot less complex than Anakin’s. She’d learned from the entire debacle to take more of an invested interest in who her husband’s friends were. Not to control his other relationships, but to help him make slightly better choices when it came to them. To help him realize that relationships could be, unfortunately, a lot like politics. Not to make him paranoid. He didn’t need any encouragement in that department. But that he, by virtue of his power and status, always had to be aware of people’s intentions toward him.

“If I could stay a Jedi and have us, this, without having to hide, I would. But I don’t want to ever give anyone that kind of power over me again. So I’m going to make the choice for myself. I’m leaving the Order. I’ll… I’ll figure out something afterward.”

Padmé stood from her vanity and made her way back over to their bed. She leaned down and pecked Anakin on the lips.

“I’ll support you in whatever you decide.”

“Thank you, Angel,” he replied.

He grinned, and Padmé just managed to flee from his reach before he could pull her onto the bed.

“No! I just got done with my hair.”

Anakin pouted. “You’re going to do me like that when I just got back? You never let me have any fun.”

“You sound just like your daughter,” Padmé pointed out as she began putting on the pieces of her garment for the day.

Silence fell between them as she did so. Then, finally, Padmé said, “What about… I mean, have you told…” Padmé paused before taking a deep. “Have you told _her_ about this? I mean, she’s a Jedi. Right?”

“You can say her name. It’s not like you don’t know it. It’s not like you haven’t probably seen her flitting around the Senate with Rex for the Clone Relief Initiative.”

Maybe that was so. But the occasion to talk about his Jedi lover came up so infrequently that it honestly felt a little awkward openly saying her name.

Padmé shrugged. Anakin didn’t press it.

“She is. A Jedi that is,” Anakin replied. “I just wanted to tell you first… and I actually wanted your opinion about that.”

“My opinion?”

“Yeah. I… I don’t want to leave her behind.”

“Oh.”

_Oh._

Because of course, her husband wouldn’t pick a lover for the sole purpose of having emotional support throughout the war when Padmé couldn’t be there. Because of course, he wouldn’t just throw that person away when he decided he was done with the war and the Jedi. Of course, he would ask her to leave with him.

“That’s…”

“I know. It’s crazy. And this isn’t exactly what we agreed to. But I think the two of you would really get along with each other.”

“Maybe,” Padmé agreed. And while she wanted to have time to mull over if she wanted to bring another person into _their_ relationship rather than the agreement they had to allow each other to pursue outside relationships, Padmé knew that later wasn’t promised. She’d learned that during the war. They’d been so close to losing everything. “I’m just… I’ve always just been happy with my work and you.”

She saw the guilty and defensive look on his face and quickly added, “That’s not to say that I’m saying you should feel bad. I know what I got into. I meant what I said when we first got married. And I also know that I might have lost you if not for her. I just… I don’t know, Ani.”

Her honest thoughts cooled his excitement but didn’t deter him.

“I’m just asking you to agree to actually meet her first. To talk to her. I have a good feeling about this. You’ll love her,” he assured.

“Ani,” Padmé said patiently, but couldn’t help laughing at his enthusiasm. “You have to talk to her first.”

“I will. But I had to talk to you too so I can tell her, and she’ll agree to meet you.”

“Anakin. Have you ever expressed to her that you might want to leave the Order? Has she ever expressed to you that she would follow you if you left? That she would be willing to leave at all.”

 _Do you mean as much to her as she means to you?_ Padmé wanted to ask but kept to herself.

“Well… no,” Anakin admitted. “Not outright.”

“Anakin.”

“But she’s not enamored with the Order and their refusal to evolve and let go of some of their outdated traditions either.”

“Dissatisfaction is one thing, Ani. Leaving is a whole different thing. Not all Jedi are like you and remember what it’s like to have a family. Not every Jedi longs for that kind of freedom. Especially not a Jedi whose only memories of home is the Temple,” Padmé pointed out.

“I can talk her into it I think.”

“Anakin.”

“I know. I know. It’s her choice, and I shouldn’t make it seem like I’m trying to force her into something she doesn’t want,” Anakin said hastily. “But I have a good feeling about this. It feels… it feels right.”

“I just don’t want you to be disappointed if she doesn’t see things the way you see them.”

“Right.”

Padmé could tell Anakin was still set on his idea of how this would all go down, but that was Anakin. With all his perfect dreams and ideas about the way things would go. It was one of the reasons she loved him. She’d done what she could to bring him back to reality. And she’d console him if things didn’t go the way that he hoped.

She was buttoning up her gown when Anakin came up behind her and hugged around the shoulders. He was, thankfully, careful not to disturb her hair.

“I don’t want you to feel forced into something you don’t want either. If you don’t want this, you can tell me.”

Padmé grabbed onto his arms and said, “I know. I don’t think I’m entirely opposed to the idea. Just… Let’s see if she’s willing to meet first.”

Officially anyway. Padmé was fairly sure she’d met the woman once. A few years ago right before the end of the Clone Wars. The young togruta had come to her apartment at Anakin’s request right after finding out Palpatine was a _fucking_ Sith Lord. And Padmé had promptly sent the woman to go help Anakin instead. Not that the younger woman had needed any prompting. After Padmé revealed her near-certain suspicions of Palpatine’s intentions for Anakin, the young woman’s blue lekku had turned pale and she lost color in her face before she fled the apartment. Padmé would never forget that look. The kind of concern and panic that flashed across her face when they put together Palpatine’s plan wasn’t the expression of someone who was just a fellow Jedi. Just a fellow Jedi wouldn’t have understood Padmé’s concerns.

“Daddy. You’re back.”

Padmé snapped out her thoughts as Luke and Leia ran into the room.

Anakin let her go and immediately knelt down to embrace the children.

“I told Leia you would be back today. She didn’t believe me.”

“Shut up, Luke!”

“Leia, we don’t talk to people like that,” Anakin said as he stood to his feet with both four-year-old children in his arms.

Leia didn’t acknowledge Anakin’s chiding and said, “Daddy, will you cook us breakfast?”

“Yep,” Anakin said heading out the room with the twins.

Their voices faded as they continued down the hall. But the scene stayed with Padmé for the rest of the day, always managing to tug a smile to her lips when she thought about it.

* * *

**_Naboo, Start of the Clone Wars_ **

_On Naboo, a wedding was supposed to be a joyous occasion. They traditionally celebrated with lavish parties and festivals where every family, friend, or otherwise influential person in the lives of those wedded showed up to support the union. So important were the union of two or three or however many hearts were involved, that Naboo’s government granted every person to be wedded a stipend for the celebration and an offer of well wishes for what would hopefully be a long union._

_Padmé wasn’t going to get all that for her wedding. No celebration involving all her family and friends that lasted all day. None of her mother and sister helping her to get ready. No well-wishes from the queen. No long time off for the honeymoon before she returned to her duties. Just a simple wedding with her and Anakin, the priest, and their two droids as witnesses, while she wore a simple lace dress and veil and Anakin, wore his Jedi robes._

_Padmé didn’t care about that though. She loved Anakin, he loved her, and it was enough. Even though it was bittersweet._

_Not bittersweet because she wouldn’t get the lavish wedding that she’d grown up looking forward to one day. But bittersweet because of the war. In some combination of naiveté and desperation, she’d hoped that this war wouldn’t be as catastrophic as the battle on Geonosis. That for all that war had been declared by both sides, that the declaration would just be a legal formality and the resolution of this conflict would end peacefully._

_That was her fourteen-year-old self talking. Bright-eyed and not yet exposed to the plights of the large galaxy. For certain, Naboo wasn’t perfect and had its problems. But there were certain liberties on Naboo that she’d assumed were a forgone conclusion that were not in the broader galaxy._

_It was also her twenty-four-year-old self talking. Not Senator Amidala. But just Padmé Naberrie. About to marry a Jedi, who not only was forbidden by his Order to marry at all but would end up being a commander or general for the Grand Army of the Republic._

_Padmé’s entire being balked at the idea that the Republic had come to this. And while it would be nice to put all thoughts of the war and how it would affect her upcoming marriage aside, how it would be nice to live in the fantasy that their love would be enough, she had to temper this fantasy with some realism. That was if she didn’t want this marriage to crumble under the stress of this upcoming war. That was if she wanted a marriage and a husband in Anakin after this war was all said and done._

_“Ani,” Padmé said, a little more urgently than she’d meant to. Anakin responded accordingly._

_“What’s wrong?” he asked, instantly sitting up next to her._

_“Nothing. We just… We need to talk.”_

_“About what?” Anakin asked. Before Padmé could reply he added, “Are you having second thoughts? Because if you are—”_

_“No, Ani,” Padmé said, immediately easing his panic. “I want to marry you. If something happens to you during or happens to me during this war, I want us to have the rights to each other that every other widow and widower would have.” Not wanting to dwell on that possibility, Padmé continued, “But I think we need to be realistic about what this war is going to mean for us. What this might mean for you.”_

_Anakin didn’t say anything, but sat up to earnestly listen to what she had to say. Not out of obligation, like many of her colleagues in the senate. Not because of her status like the citizens of Naboo when she saw them. Not out of patronizing, like she sometimes felt when she spoke with Senator Palpatine. But like he valued every word that came out her mouth simply because they were from her. As someone who spent much of her time speaking to people, it was refreshing._

_“You’re going to see things during this war, be asked to do things you don’t like. Things that you might not be able to handle alone. And because most of the time we’ll probably be separated and I’ll have my work in the Senate, that means I won’t always be there to be your emotional support.”_

_“Don’t worry.” Anakin took her hand in his. “I’ll be fine.”_

_Padmé wanted to believe that. But she’d also seen what happened to Anakin after his mother died. When he admitted he’d killed the sand people in retaliation. That kind of terrible reaction hadn’t come out of a sudden vacuum. That had been years of anger and turmoil that for all that the Jedi appeared to pride themselves on their emotional control, Anakin had never been taught how to deal with. Had learned to suppress rather than confront those emotions. Had never really healed from Shariya knew what traumas._

_“Maybe.”_

_Padmé wouldn’t argue the point today. Not when the priest would be there that evening. They only had so much time to have this conversation. And it needed to be had before their vows. They needed to be on the same page. Everything else could wait._

_“But if you’re not fine. If you need that emotional comfort or support, and I’m not there to give it, if you need to find it somewhere else, I won’t mind.”_

_“You mean with someone else?”_

_“I…” Padmé thought it would take longer for him to figure that out. “Yes.” Then she said, “It’s a little non-traditional on Naboo. And I know the concept might not be something you’re familiar with. But—"_

_“I’m familiar with it. It happened all the time on Tatooine,” Anakin blurted out._

_Padmé blinked. “Really.”_

_“Yeah. It…” Anakin trailed off and averted his gaze, looking so much like that little boy on Tatooine that Padmé wanted to laugh in fondness. But she held it in as not to ruin the seriousness of this moment and so that whatever Anakin wanted to say, he’d say it._

_“On Tatooine, amongst the slaves, marriage was… it was open,” Anakin rushed out. “People got sold from each other all the time. Rented out. Lived in different cities and rarely saw each other. So relationships weren’t always strictly limited to two people.”_

_“Oh,” Padmé said for lack of anything else to say._

_While she might have been older than Anakin and had more experience in politics, that didn’t mean Anakin himself was lacking in experiences. Actually, in a lot of ways, he had a lot more experience when it came to the way the galaxy worked than she did._

_A thought occurred to her._

_“Did you think all marriages worked that way?”_

_“No!” Anakin said quickly. “Padmé, I love you. Honestly, I don’t want to be with anyone else except you.”_

_“I know, Ani,” Padmé said. She gently cupped his face. “I love you too. And I’m not saying that I want you to be with someone else. Just that… I want to be realistic about this. I don’t want this to be any more painful than necessary. I want you to come back to me after this war. I want there to be a marriage to come home to.”_

_Anakin shrugged. “It won’t be too long. What? Six months? A year at most?”_

_Padmé hoped so._

_“No matter how long, I just wanted to make sure you know something like that is okay.”_

_Anakin nodded. Then he averted his gaze before looking back._

_“Can I ask you something too?”_

_Padmé nodded._

_“I know we agreed to put our duties first. But when it’s us, when we can be together, I want us to be able to put duty aside. To not worry about the war or the Senate. I want to come back to you after all this is over too. And I don’t want to associate us with all this trouble,” Anakin said._

_Maybe it was an impossible expectation to live up to when the war would consume so much of their lives. But perhaps that was Anakin’s point. This war would consume so much of their lives individually. It wouldn’t do to let it consume them the precious spare moments they got to spend together. At the very least, it wouldn’t hurt to try. And if something wasn’t working, they could revisit it. They could talk it out just like this._

_“Okay,” Padmé agreed. “But with a caveat.”_

_“What?”_

_“No secrets that we don’t have to keep between us. And even when we do have them, no pretending that we don’t,” Padmé said._

_“Okay,” Anakin agreed eagerly._

_Normal couples didn’t have to worry about these things. Didn’t have to discuss how they were going to navigate a secret and forbidden relationship during a war. They should be giddy and talking about happy fantasies about the way they were going to spend the rest of their lives together._

_But the way Anakin smiled at her afterward and the way he smiled at her as they exchanged solemn but secret vows before the priest was worth the hardships their unorthodox relationship was going to face._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you in advance for all the kudos, comments, and subscriptions. I appreciate it!


	2. Murky Boundaries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ahsoka had always braced herself for the day Anakin would decide to leave the Order but didn't expect he'd ask her to go with him...

Some of the older Jedi Masters were probably giving Ahsoka disapproving looks as she stormed through the Temple. Probably thinking that she was too old and too seasoned a knight to be letting her emotions get the best of her. But Ahsoka cared little. She’d get her emotions under control later. Maybe get Anakin to help her work it out. Right now, she wanted to stew in her frustration, and even if they quietly disapproved, most were smart enough not to bother her about it.

“Someone came into the atmosphere too hot when they landed this morning.”

Ahsoka didn’t slow her brisk walk, but Obi-wan still managed to fall into step next to her.

“No. I was just fine until I went with Rex to go deal with the Senate,” Ahsoka snapped. “It’s been four years. Four years since the end of the war. And still, the fucking Senate can’t collectively come together to do the right thing. They keep asking for concessions. If we give any more concessions, the bill won’t be any _use_ to the clones. It’s almost like they didn’t learn anything from the war in the first place. Sure Palpatine orchestrated everything. But he wouldn’t have had anything to orchestrate if they’d been doing their jobs in the first place.”

Obi-wan sighed. Not because he was irritated, Ahsoka was sure, but because he’d heard her rage about this issue over the last few years before.

“I know this isn’t what you want to hear. But patience, Ahsoka.” Ahsoka gave him a side-eyed look. Obi-wan wasn’t bothered. “You’ve gotten this far. Remember, there was a time you and Rex couldn’t even get the bill to the floor to be heard. And many of the Senators are up for re-election in their sectors this year. Many of their people are just as dissatisfied as you are. If enough are replaced, I’m sure you and the clones will have the support you need to get this bill passed. Especially with the Chancellor and his wife on your side.”

“Maybe,” Ahsoka muttered. “But it’s hard to have patience when some of the clones that survived the war could really use the help.”

“And you’re giving them all the help that you can. Sometimes, young one, we focus so much on what we haven’t yet accomplished that we don’t remember what we have. And you, Ahsoka, have accomplished a lot.”

Some of Ahsoka’s frustration melted away at that. Some of it. The hiccups were still frustrating, but she and Rex were a long way from where they had started when the war was over. The war had only been three and a half years, but after three years of being soldiers, the Jedi had been lost. One day they were constantly being shipped out to fight. The next, they were being called back with no clear direction. Many had taken it upon themselves to find their own projects to work on. Ahsoka had been one of them, throwing herself into helping the clones advocate for their citizenship and getting aid from the Senate when Rex asked if she wanted to help. She would have never thought the process would be so slow and that four years later, they would still be trying to convince the Senate to give them everything they asked for. But they had come a long way. They’d gotten a lot of help from the individual planets, Alderaan and Mandalore being chief among them. And though they were still trying to get the Clone Relief Package passed, they had at least been able to get the citizenship bill and amendment passed early on.

“Still,” Ahsoka replied, but most of the heat was gone from it.

Obi-wan gave her a sympathetic smile.

“Surely, you didn’t seek me out to hear me complain about more or less the same thing I’m always complaining about,” Ahsoka said.

“Alas, you are correct. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind contacting Anakin for me. There’s a Council meeting in an hour, and he’s not picking up his comm or answering his messages.”

“What makes you think he’ll answer if I contact him? You know Anakin. He always disappears from the Temple when he’s planetside.”

Obi-wan gave Ahsoka the same side-eyed look she’d given him earlier.

“What?” Ahsoka asked, feigning wide-eyed innocence.

“You know _exactly_ why he’d pick up for you.”

“I really don’t.”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you don’t actually live in your assigned apartment.”

“You have no proof of that.”

“And you’re conveniently headed to Anakin’s apartment.”

“I always go to Anakin’s apartment.”

“ _Precisely.”_

Ahsoka sighed as they reached said apartment. As she palmed the door open, she said, “I’ll let Skyguy know.”

“Let me know what?”

Ahsoka startled upon hearing Anakin’s voice.

“Oh, you’re here,” Obi-wan said, sounding as surprised as Ahsoka felt.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Ahsoka raised an eye marking at him. She was sure that next to her, Obi-wan was giving him an identical look. Anakin pointedly ignored them both.

“So, let me know what?” Anakin repeated.

“Council meeting. In an hour,” Obi-wan said, tone unimpressed.

“I know,” Anakin chirped. “I’m not so irresponsible that I wouldn’t remember we’re scheduled to meet. Thanks for the reminder, though.”

Ahsoka didn’t bother trying to hide her laugh.

“Maybe not, but you are irresponsible enough to just not show up anyway. Or be late,” Obi-wan added.

Anakin smirked and, with a dismissive wave, said, “Don’t worry. I’ll be there.”

“Ahsoka, if you could make sure he’s not late.”

“I don’t know why everyone thinks I have any control or influence over Skyguy.”

Another side-eyed look.

“I make no promises,” Ahsoka said.

Obi-wan huffed, giving them both one last unimpressed look before leaving. Ahsoka closed the door behind him before turning back to Anakin.

“Now serious,” she said, brow furrowed in suspicion. “What are you doing here?”

“Where else would I be?”

“With your wife and kids maybe,” Ahsoka replied bluntly with her arms crossed. “I know they’re on planet. I saw her at the Senate today.”

“Yeah. But maybe I missed you and wanted to spend time with you before the Council meeting,” Anakin said.

He grabbed her with his mecha arm and yanked on her arm to pull her down to him. Unprepared for the strength of his mecha arm, Ahsoka clumsily stumbled right into his lap.

“Anakin.”

“What?” he asked.

He began what would have been a trail of kisses down her right lek if Ahsoka hadn’t pushed him away.

“Nice try. But you haven’t seen her in weeks, and you have seen me. You wouldn’t be here without a reason.”

“Why can’t this be the reason?” Anakin asked, pulling her back toward him.

This time he captured her lips in a kiss. And as he did, sucking on her bottom lip and biting the corner just the way she liked, Ahsoka almost let him get away.

Almost.

She pulled back.

“ _Anakin_.”

He sighed and settled for leaning his head on her shoulder without saying anything. His emotions across their bond suddenly clear to her. Fear. Uncertainty. Solemn resolve. She hadn’t sensed that combination of emotions from him since they stormed Palpatine’s office together.

“Okay. Now you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Anakin assured. “It’s just… Maybe this should wait until after the Council meeting.”

“So I’ll have to wait in anxious anticipation?” Ahsoka asked.

Ahsoka thought she’d have to pry him for it a little more, but words burst forth from him with no further prompting.

“I want to leave the Order,” Anakin rushed out.

Ahsoka pushed Anakin back, forcing him to lift his head off her shoulder. He wouldn’t quite meet her gaze, but she recognized the uncertainty. That and the timid hope.

She moved off his lap and sat on the other side of the couch, bemused more than anything.

“What… What brought this on?”

“I don’t know.” Anakin frowned and shook his head. “Well… actually, I don’t _completely_ know. But I think part of it might have been you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. I know I dismissed it before, but I thought about it when you said that there’s always going to be an enemy to chase if I keep looking for them. That I can’t leave the war behind if I don’t let the war go.”

Yes. Ahsoka remembered saying that. After she’d woken in the middle of the night a few months ago to find he’d disappeared from their bed. She’d found him sitting on the sofa with a datapad and a bottle of brandy on the coffee table in front of him. Without her prompting, he mentioned he thought he made a connection that would lead him to the location of one of the wanted Separatist leaders that had scattered after the war. Ahsoka wordlessly got a cup for herself, poured some of the spirit, and joined him. She’d quietly watched him work, _obsess_ , over his finding before she’d finally told him the words that apparently inspired their current conversation.

“I… Yeah. But I meant for you to find a new project. Maybe focus a lot more on your work with the Liberty Resistance. Maybe even help me with the clone advocacy. Not… not to leave altogether.”

Anakin gave her a smile. A resigned one. Like he’d already made up his mind.

“Snips, you know as well as I do that I’ve always wanted to leave the Order. I just… I’m ready now. I think I’ve been ready for a long time. I’m tired of living a double life. But I also don’t want to leave you behind. Truthfully, I think you’re part of the reason I stayed as long as I did.”

Ahsoka frowned, not exactly sure what Anakin was getting at.

“So… is this it? Between us.” Then, with bitterness seeping into her tone that she didn’t intend, she said, “Gonna leave the Jedi and me behind and live out the rest of your life with your wife?”

She shouldn’t be this hurt by it. There had been an understanding between them when this all first started. Or at least, Ahsoka thought there had been. That their relationship, the one beyond friends and beyond Master and Padawan, would end after the war. The war ended. Their arrangement hadn’t. But it was like Anakin said, she’d always known the double life he lived weighed on him. Being pulled in two different directions. Always having to put his duty to the Order over the family she knew he had. This always had to end sometime. No matter how much she’d fantasized, pretended, _hoped_ that it wouldn’t.

“No!” Anakin said hastily, keeping her from despairing any longer than she had been. “I don’t… Ahsoka.” Anakin ran a hand over his face. “Force, I am bad at this.” He took a deep breath. “I want you to come with me.”

Anakin was just full of surprises today.

The sentiment must have slipped across their bond because Anakin hastily added, “I know I’m asking you leave the only life you know behind. But just because I want to leave the Order doesn’t mean I want to leave you. I… I love you. Like, I’m in love with you. And I know that’s not how it started. And it honestly didn’t start out that ideally. But I hoped… I just.”

Ahsoka’s heart pounded so loudly in her montrals that she felt her heart might burst. If Anakin dropped any more bombshells on her tonight, she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t faint.

“I talked to Padmé. She’s open to meeting you. Open to having you as a part of our relationship. Our family. If you want.”

“I…” Ahsoka trailed off. She scanned the room as she searched for a response, the right words to say. Her eyes landed on the chrono. “The Council meeting. You’re late,” she said blandly.

Anakin followed her gaze to the chrono and sighed.

“Ahsoka…” Anakin ran a hand through his hair. “Right. I’ll… Just wait here for me. Okay?”

Ahsoka wasn’t sure where else Anakin thought she was going. Even if she did leave the apartment, there was nowhere she could disappear in the Temple that he probably wouldn’t be able to find her. And even if she left the Temple, she’d have to come back.

She nodded anyway, and he rushed out the room to, likely, run all the way to the Council meeting.

Having always been able to find something to do to fill her time, Ahsoka occupied herself and managed to put Anakin’s proposition aside. At least until he came back, which didn’t seem so long even though it had been hours. Unfortunately, yet fortunately, Anakin wasn’t staying long.

“We’ve got some intel on the Separatist remnant. Apparently, they’re trying to gain support and funding for some kind of superweapon. It’s time-sensitive. I have to leave tonight,” Anakin explained when he returned.

“By yourself?” Ahsoka asked.

Anakin shrugged. “It’s just a quick recon. Gather some intel and bring it back to the Council. It’s probably nothing. Even if they had planned to build some superweapon, what’s left of the Separatists probably don’t have the funds or manpower to actually build it. But… better safe than sorry.”

“Right.”

“I was supposed to leave right after the meeting, but I wanted to let you know personally,” Anakin said, grabbing her hand.

And considering that, considering that he’d come all the way back here to tell her he was leaving, it was no wonder Obi-wan sought her out when he couldn’t find his former padawan.

He kissed her lightly on the lips. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

She could have let him leave, just like that. Like he hadn’t told her what was going through his head earlier, and like she hadn’t reacted… well, not badly. But she hadn’t given much of her feelings on the matter either.

“Anakin,” she called before he palmed the door open.

He turned back to look at her.

“I… Earlier. It was just a lot. I wasn’t expecting it. I just need some time to think about it is all. I’ll be ready to talk about it when you come back. As long as you don’t get sent on another mission.”

Anakin paused, looking thoughtful before saying, “Yeah. When I get back. I think this is going to be my last time dealing with this.”

He started to leave again, but Ahsoka stopped him once more. She closed the distance between them. Wrapped her arms around him. Took in his warm, earthy, oily scent.

Anakin chuckled and returned the embrace, probably for much longer than he should have because he eventually said, “Now I really have to go. Don’t worry, Snips. I’ll be back. And then we can work this all out.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” Ahsoka replied, backing away.

This time, she let him leave.

* * *

_The war propaganda that Ahsoka sometimes saw when they managed to get back to Coruscant made war seem like a clean, noble, and honorable endeavor._

_It wasn’t._

_Sometimes Ahsoka had to fight dirty. Sometimes Ahsoka had to put her own personal beliefs and morals aside. Sometimes Ahsoka wasn’t sure what was right or wrong anymore._

_But as long as they won battles and kept the Separatists on their toes, none of that mattered. It didn’t matter that clones were dying. It didn’t matter that it was getting harder and harder for the Jedi to keep to their code while fighting a war. It didn’t matter that whole planets were being ravaged even when the Republic won. The clones were made to fight this war. The Jedi weren’t, but they were more equipped to than anyone else. And the planets ravaged? A necessary sacrifice in exchange for freedom and peace._

_At least, that’s what the Senate said. As they watched others fight their war for them. As they lost nothing for the freedom and peace that was so worthy of sacrifice._

_Ahsoka didn’t have time to think about those things. If she did, they took her to a place that was hard—no_ harder _to get out of._

_Sometimes, she wished she could have the kind of distance from the war like people on Coruscant seemed to. To not be haunted by the people they lost. Bodies disintegrated so there was nothing left to retrieve. Terrain so hostile that bodies couldn’t be retrieved at all even when there were bodies left. To not be haunted by the people she’d been forced to kill._

_At first, it wasn’t so bad. But after a while, the coping methods of the Jedi, to let negative feelings and emotions go into the Force, became harder. Because releasing emotions into the Force was for the far and few in between mishaps, cruelties, and tragedies of an otherwise peaceful existence. Not when they were at war. Not when there was always death and pain and anguish. Not when even the Force was constantly crying out with it and wasn’t at peace. And as the war dragged on, with no ending in sight, they all found ways to cope._

_The padawan follows the master, so the cliché around the Temple as far back as she could remember went. So she got used to sharing spaces with her master fairly quickly, especially when they were away from the Temple. Bunks, tents, pallets, beds. She also got used to not being able to hide much from him._

_One of those early days during the war when every sound woke her out of already anxious and restless sleeps, of course, he’d noticed. Wordlessly, he moved closer to her, wrapping a protective arm around her. Before all this, before all the war and death and nightmares, she might have been too proud to accept the gesture. Annoyed even by her master’s tendency to protectiveness, to try to make everything right. But then? Ahsoka embraced it, leaning back into his warm embrace. She did the same the next night._

_At sixteen and some months, she was only a year and a half older than when the war first began, but she felt like she’d aged a lot more. Even then, hardened by the war with a kill count increasing by the day, the arrangement had become habit. A hardened soldier she might have been, but on good days, she could admit to herself that she was too cowardly to find out what would happen if she tried to stand without her master._

_He didn’t seem to mind._

_What Ahsoka hadn’t expected was that he needed the comfort as much as she had._

_She couldn’t say there was one particular thing that caused the epiphany. But one night, when she joined him in their tent and took a moment to look at him, holding a mug of the moonshine that was the tell-tale sign that he was having a really rough day, he seemed so… young. She’d always known he was on the younger side for a knight and a master. They were only five years apart. A little less because her birthday came first. But a year and a half ago, he seemed so much older than her. So much more experienced. Now, in this moment, he seemed a lot more like a peer. She brushed it off as she sat to join him. And when he relaxed, sagging against her side, she grabbed his free hand in hers as she leaned her head against his shoulder._

_Things changed after that._

_Ahsoka… she wasn’t sure if it was just her or that maybe she wasn’t imagining the contemplative looks he gave her when he thought she didn’t notice. And unlike the sleazy looks that Ahsoka had gotten used to getting everywhere she went, including their own Republic Senate right on Coruscant, Anakin’s glances didn’t discomfort her. Maybe because she didn’t sense the grotesque intent from him. Maybe because she sensed he still respected her. Maybe because he was Anakin. Or maybe because she wasn’t innocent of the same contemplations. Which also meant she might be just projecting._

_She decided there was only one way to find out. With courage burning in her veins one evening thanks to the Force and a cup of moonshine, she walked into their shared bunk on the Resolute. Rather than climbing into her own bed, she slid into his. That in and of itself wasn’t out of the ordinary. Though more often than not, she would at least try to sleep in her own bed first before giving to cuddling next to her master. But rather than lying with her back against his chest like she normally would have, she laid facing him._

That _was out of the ordinary._

_“What?” he asked, running a comforting hand over her left montral._

_She almost talked herself out of it. But in a sudden burst of courage, she leaned forward and placed a kiss on his lips—more than chaste but not demanding. Just long enough to catch Anakin off guard. To lose the tenuous control he maintained over his emotions. To feel the surprise, desire, conflict, lust, fear, shame across their bond before he got a hold of it._

_He pulled away first, his face formed into an expression she couldn’t quite read. But she didn’t need to._

_“I knew I wasn’t crazy.”_

_Her words seemed to snap him out his stupor._

_He frowned. The sighed. Then frowned again._

_“Maybe not. But we can’t,” he said._

_“Why not? You want it too.”_

_It said something about how much she’d come to know him over the last year and a half that she could tell by the twitch of his jaw that he was about to lie._

_“Don’t lie to me.” It came out more like an order. She prodded their bond for emphasis, even though he’d long gotten his emotions under control._

_“It would be… inappropriate.”_

_Ahsoka scoffed. “Since when do you care about if something’s inappropriate?”_

_“I do when it’s you,” he said earnestly._

_That made Ahsoka both want to back off and push harder._

_“I’m not good at being… discreet.”_

_That was an understatement. He was terrible at making up excuses for why he disappeared from the Temple most times they were on Coruscant._

_“It wouldn’t be that different, though. Just…”_

_“If we got caught, the Council would separate us.”_

_Not expel. Whether his lack of concern was because he knew the Council wouldn’t expel him because they couldn’t lose an able Jedi right now or because he didn’t care about being expelled, Ahsoka wasn’t sure. But separated. They’d pair her with a new master and make sure to keep them on opposite sides of the galaxy. They’d force them to let go. And would that be worth risking this new curiosity?_

_No. It wasn’t._

_“You’re right,” she finally said._

_He smirked at her._

_“I’m not sure I’m hearing correctly. Did you just admit I was right?”_

_“Shut up,” Ahsoka muttered, burying her face in his chest._

_Anakin let her, both content for things to stay exactly as they were rather than risking everything._

_Until Obi-wan died, and they both staggered back into Anakin’s apartment. Hearts heavy with despair yet remarkably empty._

_Ahsoka could tell things were different as soon as they laid down. Clinging to each other more than usual to make sure this was real. That they were real. That this wasn’t a nightmare. Because just early this evening, they’d had dinner at Dex’s with Obi-wan. A rare treat since they hardly ever had much time together on Coruscant. And she’d been rolling her eyes at her master’s and his former master’s bickering. And just ten minutes later, she was holding his body and—_

_She felt Anakin laying a comforting hand on her montral like he always did to comfort her. But then his hand began to go downward, and her heart raced as his hand continued its slow descent._

_He stopped, respectfully at her shoulder, and pulled back to look at her. His expression was intense. Eyes smoldering with… everything. But it all just looked like grief. And desperation. And need. Or maybe she was projecting that into his eyes from what she sensed in the Force. Or maybe it wasn’t from him. Maybe it was from her._

_Regardless, she reached her hand up over his and helped to guide it down the rest of the flesh of her lek—all the way to tip in a way that she’d never let anyone touch before._

_And then his lips were on hers. Then on her neck, and then everywhere. And she returned them with kisses of her own. The sense of urgency and desperation smothered any shame that she might have had when he got off her dress and tights and saw her like_ this. _Wanting. Needing. Seeking to feel anything besides the pain, the despair. Seeking to fill the emptiness, even just temporarily. Yet at the same time to make sure everything was real._

_Ahsoka woke what must have only been a few hours later to an unfamiliar soreness and a naked body pressed against her own naked one. She was confused for one second before yesterday came back to her._

_Obi-wan was dead._

_Then…_

_Fuck._

_“I agree wholeheartedly with your sentiment, Snips.”_

_He tugged her closer to him. They went back to sleep._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos, comments, and subscriptions on the last chapter. I appreciate it! I admit I was a little nervous about posting this story because in a lot of ways it's very experimental for me. But your kind words, thoughts, and opinions made me feel much better about it. Keep it coming!


	3. Things Left Unsaid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ahsoka elects to ignore a decision made by the Council...

One of the many things that Ahsoka liked about Breha Organa was that she didn’t treat Ahsoka like a Jedi. Nor did she expect Ahsoka to act like a Jedi. Not that Breha didn’t hold Ahsoka in high regard or ignore that she was a Jedi. But Breha treated her like a sentient being. Someone with emotions and thoughts that might run contradictory to what people thought a Jedi should be or what people thought a Jedi was, good or bad. It made working with her not feel like work.

It also meant that when Ahsoka lost her patience, Breha, while far from a pushover, would never hold it against her. Wouldn’t remind her that it was unbecoming of a Jedi Knight to be impatient.

“We’ve revised the damn thing twice. I don’t know what anyone can say to convince the Senate that it’s the right thing to do. That they should care about the people who fought their war, so they didn’t have to,” Ahsoka snapped when Breha suggested more revisions.

“Unfortunately, when it comes to dealing with people like some of those in the Senate, you have to appeal to their selfishness to get what you want,” Breha replied. “It’s not enough that they should care or that it’s right.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?”

“Show them that they’re getting something out of it.”

“You want me to bribe them? With what?”

Ahsoka reached over to fill her glass with more of the sweet Alderaan wine. Breha placed a hand over Ahsoka’s when she grabbed the bottle, lips pressed in a thin line and eyes slightly narrowed. Ahsoka sighed and loosened her grip on it.

“Not bribe. Just make them think that by passing the bill, they’re getting something out of it,” Breha said. “You see, what I’ve learned over my short reign as queen, is that sometimes people misunderstand you giving something to someone else for taking away something that they already have.”

“That’s so stupid. There’s nothing in the bill that says that. The only thing it would need is funding. And they had no problem finding that to fund their war in the first place.”

“It is stupid,” Breha agreed. “But it’s the unfortunate reality of things.”

Ahsoka sighed into her wine before taking a long gulp of what was left in her glass. Hopefully, it would help her release some of her frustration.

“So. What do you think I should do?”

“Instead of trying to appeal to the frostbitten hearts of your opponents, you need to convince them that helping the clones would add to what they already have. Not take away from it. That embracing the clones and giving them relief would benefit them and their constituents.”

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. “The clones shouldn’t have to prove that they can contribute anything that people can exploit or benefit from to be given basic needs. Especially after they fought a war.”

“I agree. But that’s the beast you’re dealing with. So what you need to do is some research and write a supporting document to show the Senate what this bill will do for them.”

Ahsoka drank the rest of her wine in one swig.

“I _despise_ politics.”

“I agree with you on that too. But that comes with the territory with this kind of stuff.”

“I wish someone could have told me that before I signed up to help with this.”

“Would it have stopped you?”

“No,” Ahsoka grumbled with a petulant pout. “Just would have been nice to know.”

Breha swiped her hand across the datapad to close out the document and then put the device to sleep.

“Enough work. We haven’t caught up in a while. As absurd as it seems, it feels like we had more time to talk during the war when you were a padawan than we do nowadays.”

“Yeah. Things have been… Hectic lately.”

“Uh-oh.”

“What do you mean ‘uh-oh’?” Ahsoka asked.

“Hectic is your code way of saying you’re having problems with Anakin Skywalker.”

“It is not.”

Breha pursed her lips, unimpressed. Ahsoka didn’t even know why she tried to deny it. This was the woman who, after seeing the two interact dozens of times in the past, could tell she’d had sex with Anakin the next time she saw them together on Naboo at the Festival of Lights.

“Did you two break up again?”

“You say that like we make a habit of it.”

“You’ve broken up twice.”

“Only one of those times count. That time right before Palpatine was ousted wasn’t a breakup. We just didn’t talk for a couple of days.”

Breha didn’t argue with her.

After a short silence, Ahsoka said, “He wants to leave the Order. Says he’s ready to put the war behind him.”

“Finally. No slight against the Jedi. Palpatine fooled us all. Even the best and brightest of us. But they should be ashamed of the fact that they sent children out to war.”

“We were teenagers.”

“Since when is a teenager not a child?”

“The Naboo don’t seem to think so. They historically elect their monarchs when they’re young.”

“I have a lot of very nuanced thoughts about that. And you should talk to Senator Amidala about it and see what she thinks about it.”

“What counts as a child varies from culture to culture. Some places don’t even have the concept of a teenager. Not like in the Core. On Shili, killing an akul marks you as an adult regardless of your age,” Ahsoka pointed out.

“That’s beside the point. We’re talking about war. Not ruling a relatively peaceful planet and killing an akul. Anakin is a case study of the consequences of their failure to speak up for their own children. Especially for a group of people who call themselves peacekeepers.”

“He’s not a child.”

“No. But on Alderaan, children are like precious gems. Vulnerable before they’re fully formed. If you uncover them too soon, they’ll break apart. Broken children make for broken adults. And it’s only by some miracle of Mother Alderaan that he hasn’t shattered.”

He almost had. But Ahsoka wasn’t trying to help Breha prove her point.

“For someone who dislikes and always has something disapproving to say about Anakin, you sure are concerned about him.”

“I don’t dislike Anakin. I think he’s quite a kind and caring young man. If a little misguided sometimes. But most of the time we talk about him, it concerns his relationship with you, which I’m still not sure I approve of.”

“He’s not my master anymore.”

“That hasn’t been my problem in a while. It’s that you are clearly in love with him. And either he’s blind to that, which is a problem in and of itself, or he’s aware of it and stringing you along for his own benefit.”

“What happened to ‘he’s quite a kind and caring young man’?”

“Generally. No one can be perfect.”

In response to Breha’s previous assessment, Ahsoka said, “We’re Jedi.” That simultaneously explained everything and didn’t. “I know what I signed up for. If he can be accused of those things, so can I.” A pause. “When he told me he wanted to leave the Order, he also told me that he was in love with me and wanted me to leave with him.”

“And what did you say?”

“Nothing. He had to go to a Council meeting and then had to run off on a mission. Said we’d talk when he got back.”

“What do you think you’re going to say?”

Ahsoka shrugged. “I don’t know. The love confession complicated things enough. But leaving the Order… I’m not sure of that part.”

“It seems like leaving is the natural course of things considering the Order forbids the kind of relationship you have with each other. Seems simple enough to me.”

It was even simpler when Ahsoka considered that there was no way the Council could be so blind. Sure, Obi-wan was close to them and knew what was going on. He might have even confronted Anakin about it at one point if Ahsoka knew Obi-wan and his strong sense of propriety the way Ahsoka thought she did. But you didn’t have to be close to notice that she didn’t live in her assigned apartments. That on Coruscant, to find one of them was to find the other. Not even Obi-wan and Anakin, who had been and still were closer than most former student-teacher pairs, had lives that gravitated around each other quite like Anakin and Ahsoka.

What did complicate matters was Anakin’s invitation to meet his wife and be a part of _their_ family. While she’d never been bothered by the fact that Anakin had a wholly separate relationship apart from her and poly relationships weren’t a foreign concept, Ahsoka just wasn’t sure _she_ had a heart big enough to accept another person the way she did Skyguy.

But that part wasn’t her secret to tell. Anakin had been pissy enough when he found out Breha knew about their relationship, though less so when Ahsoka revealed she’d had no choice. He’d rightfully be annoyed if she revealed his second (first?) relationship.

“Maybe,” Ahsoka finally replied.

“Well, sometimes the best way to figure something out is to just not think about it. And I’ve only got you for the day. I don’t want to spend it with you pining over Anakin.”

Neither did Ahsoka.

Besides, as always, Breha was right about the best way to figure something out being to just no think about it. Because as she spent time with the queen and her adopted daughter, Winter, who happily squealed “Aunt ‘Soka!” when she saw the Jedi, she was reminded that a few years ago she couldn’t have imagined being so close to the queen of a core world like Alderaan. Certainly not enough that her daughter considered her an aunt. Ahsoka had actually protested when Anakin came up with the bright idea that to round her education in politics, she should spend some time with politicians who wanted to help the galaxy. According to him, Senator Amidala held Bail Organa in high esteem and personally asked Organa if he wouldn’t mind being a mentor. At almost sixteen, it hadn’t escaped Ahsoka that if Anakin was so close to Senator Amidala, he could have just asked her to mentor Ahsoka. But when she’d asked, he’d come up with some bullshit reason about as a way to preserve their friendship and keep conflict out of it, they kept their professional lives separate.

The first day Ahsoka spent time shadowing Bail around the Senate, Breha had been visiting. Quietly sitting in the office as Bail tried to give her more perspective on the Separatist Crisis. That it wasn’t so black and white as it seemed. When Ahsoka asked why no one was talking about that, Breha huffed from her corner of the office and said with more than a little disdain, “Because our great chancellor doesn’t want us to see it that way. Otherwise, more people would question the point of this war.”

Bail had let out a longsuffering sigh as if he’d heard this gripe before. But it was enough to get Ahsoka’s attention. Somehow, by the end of the day, she was being mentored by Alderaan’s queen instead of its senator. It wasn’t uncommon after that for Ahsoka to find her way to Alderaan during their scarce leaves to visit the queen (there had been a lot of that when Breha suffered three miscarriages back to back). Nor had it been uncommon for Anakin to ship her off to Alderaan for supplemental instruction when he went on quick missions she wasn’t allowed to go on.

Now, some six years later, it was hard to imagine not being so close to the queen and her family. Not to mention the advantage of having the chancellor's ear when she really needed it because he was one of her closest friend’s husband.

As she made her way back to Coruscant, Ahsoka considered that maybe it wouldn’t hurt to _officially_ meet Anakin’s senator. She seemed kind enough when Ahsoka had caught glimpses of her in the Senate. And while Naboo was unable to directly assist with the Clone Relief Initiative (Ahsoka suspected that had something to with Anakin’s _unofficial_ dealings with the Liberty Resistance), she had consistently voted in favor of bringing said bills to the floor and given her vocal support.

They could probably be good friends, if not the idea Anakin had in mind.

The comm going off on the dashboard of her ship brought her out her musings.

“Tano,” she answered.

“Ahsoka,” Obi-wan said, his image appearing with his arms crossed and a hand tucked thoughtfully under his chin. “Where are you?”

“On the way back to Coruscant. I’m a few hours out. Why?”

“You didn’t… sense anything strange. Did you?”

“Strange? Like what?”

“Anything.”

Ahsoka went over the last few hours. She didn’t recall anything. And Breha had stopped her with the wine long before it would have any effect on her senses.

“No.”

Obi-wan sighed.

“What’s going on?”

“When you arrive, report straight for the Council. We’ll fill you in there,” Obi-wan said.

He didn’t wait for her to reply before he cut the comm.

Ahsoka leaned back in her seat. Why would Obi-wan ask…

For the only reason he would.

So it was without even a proper greeting that once she was allowed into the council chambers, she said bluntly, “What happened to Anakin?”

There was probably a good reason for them to reprimand her for her brusk manner, but no one bothered. That didn’t bode well for the situation.

“We don’t know,” Master Plo replied. “We lost all contact with him. Local authorities in the area say a ship matching his description crash-landed onto the planet as a result of one of their frequent electrical storms.”

“That’s nothing new. An—Master Skywalker crashes ships all the time.”

“When they investigated, the ship was in ruins, and there was no body,” Mace said. “But since what remains shows that the ship was being manually flown, their theory is that whoever was flying it was ejected from the ship as it was being torn apart in the storm. They said no one could have survived and are presuming the pilot dead.”

Ahsoka’s entire being balked at the idea that Anakin could be dead. But giving the Council any indication of that wouldn’t do any good.

“Well, clearly,” Ahsoka began, keeping her tone steady, “they don’t know Master Skywalker.”

Yoda hummed. “True, that may be. But good, the situation does not look.”

“And you called me here to make sure I didn’t sense anything amiss,” Ahsoka said. Before any of them could confirm that, she said, “He’s not dead. I would have known if he were. I would have felt it.”

“Ahsoka,” Shaak Ti said gently. “Are you _sure_?”

She was trying to help. Trying to make sure Ahsoka made clear that this wasn’t some denial of a truth the Force might have given her before it gave it to anyone else. Ahsoka wasn’t in denial, though. There was no need to be in denial about something that wasn’t true.

Still. Ahsoka took a moment to pause. To reach to the place where she could always find Anakin in the Force. Usually, it didn’t require any thought or effort. All it required was following the path of the bond they shared. She could do it in her sleep. This time it took her longer than expected to find him. But eventually, she did. Sort of. She couldn’t touch him like she usually could.

“Positive,” Ahsoka replied. “He’s… I can sense him. But it’s like he’s just out of reach.”

No one spoke for a moment, but the councilors did exchange glances. Ahsoka got the feeling they were trying to decide if now was the time to address her obvious attachment to him. The implication that she had a way of finding him in the Force that they didn’t. The bond that was supposed to be mutually severed or, at least, significantly diminished at this point.

Finally, Master Mundi said, “Then we must send someone to investigate.”

“What system was it in?” Ahsoka asked

“The Monsua Nebula system on the planet Suana,” Obi-wan said.

“That’s in the Outer Rim. If I leave now, I could be there in three days.”

“While agree that investigate, send someone to, we must. Send you, Knight Tano, we will not allow.”

“Why not?” Ahsoka blurted out before she could stop herself. So much for not letting them know how worried she was. She knew exactly what the answer was going to be.

“You’re too attached to the situation.” _To Skywalker_ , was what Mace Windu left unsaid. “Your emotions and closeness could blind you from accepting a truth you don’t want to acknowledge if this investigation were to uncover it.” Then he said, “I’ll be going to Suana to investigate the matter.”

They had to be _kidding_. Anakin and Master Windu _hated_ each other. Well. Maybe not hate. Jedi weren’t supposed to do that. But they were as close to hating each other as they could be. Everyone in the Temple knew it. But saying that wasn’t going to do her any favors. Besides, they’d cited her closeness to the Anakin as the reason. They couldn’t send Obi-wan. Otherwise, it would undermine the reason they weren’t letting her go. That or force them to deal with an issue that more and more Ahsoka was sure they were turning a blissfully blind eye to.

“I’d argue that my closeness is the exact reason I should go,” Ahsoka said, resisting the urge to put her hands on her hips.

“Be that as it may, disagree, this Council does,” Yoda said firmly.

“Fine if you don’t want me to go alone. But you can at least let me go with Master Windu,” Ahsoka pleaded.

“You will remain here, Knight Tano. _That_ is the final word of the Council,” Windu said. His tone was one that few in the Order would argue with. Anakin was one of the few. In this moment, Ahsoka was too.

She started to argue but then closed her mouth as she thought better of it. They were wasting time going back and forth. She didn’t sense that Anakin was in too much trouble yet. But that could very quickly change. Every moment counted.

Instead, she crossed her arms and pursed her lips slightly to make apparent both her displeasure and grudging acceptance of their decision.

“Yes, masters. I understand,” Ahsoka replied.

She barely got a bow in as she swiftly left the room once they dismissed her. She was halfway to her and Anakin’s apartment when Obi-wan caught up to her.

“Ahsoka,” Obi-wan warned.

Ahsoka stopped and turned to him. “How about we both skip the part where we debate about what the Council decided, where you try to convince me to hold tight and trust the wisdom of the Council until we figure out more. Instead, let’s skip to the part where you agree to let me know of any updates and to be my backup because we both know I’m going to Suana regardless.”

Obi-wan pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering out the side of his mouth something that sounded suspiciously like, “What did I do to deserve having to put up with you two?”

He looked at Ahsoka head-on and said, “You do know they probably have someone looking out for you in the Tempe hanger?”

“I know. I have a friend. Owes me a favor. She’ll let me borrow her ship,” Ahsoka assured.

Obi-wan didn’t say anything for a long time before he sighed and said, “You know that outright disobeying a direct order from the Council like this is grounds for a public censure?”

It wouldn’t be the first time Ahsoka had done something that was grounds for public censure. Back then, though, there had been a war to justify her disobedience or bending of the Council’s orders. But if Anakin was in danger, them bringing him back safe was worth the punishment she was sure to get.

“Like I said. I understand.”

Obi-wan glanced to the side and then placed a hand on Ahsoka’s shoulder, “Try to bring back Anakin safely. I’ll do everything I can to assist from this side of things.”

From the Council, that was. In a way, he was more restricted in acting than Ahsoka was. At least Ahsoka could disappear and they might assume she was working from the Clone Relief office for a couple of days to stew in her displeasure. Or, if she could get Breha to agree to vouch for her, assume she’d gone back to spend the days with her. Obi-wan didn’t have the luxury. The Order and the people in it were his life. And perhaps he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Ahsoka smiled. “Thank you, Obi-wan.”

Obi-wan nodded before going back the way he came.

Ahsoka continued back to her apartment. When she got there, she comm’d the friend she mentioned to Obi-wan.

When the call picked up, Ahsoka said, “Trace? I’m calling a favor. I need to borrow your ship.”

* * *

**_Unspecified Location in Hyperspace, 2 nd year of the Clone Wars_ **

_Ahsoka very, very sincerely hoped that Anakin and Obi-wan made up soon. Because that was the most awkward briefing Ahsoka had ever been a part of. Anakin was very pointedly not talking to Obi-wan after the revelation that he’d faked his death. And while Obi-wan was clearly hurt by Anakin’s behavior, he was being Obi-wan and being perfectly respectful of the space Anakin wanted from him. Maybe that would have worked on someone else, but Anakin was one of the most stubborn people in the galaxy. Ahsoka was certain that part of that was because he was trained by Obi-wan, another of the most stubborn people in the galaxy. At this rate, they were never going to talk to each other again._

_Typically, Ahsoka stayed out of their squabbles. But she_ could not _take a briefing like that again._

_“Master, when are you going to forgive, Master Kenobi?” Ahsoka asked once they’d returned to their shared bunk to rest before they arrived at their next destination._

_“I don’t want to talk about this, Snips,” Anakin said as he took off his boots._

_“You can’t just never speak to him again.”_

_“I don’t plan on it.”_

_“Then when do you plan to?”_

_“Until I’m sure he feels it,” Anakin snapped._

_Until Obi-wan hurt like Anakin did when Anakin thought he was dead, Ahsoka knew he meant._

_“We all have our secrets,” Ahsoka muttered. And that wasn’t just directed at Anakin._

_“Yeah. Well, I’ve never knowingly faked my death and kept it secret from the people that care about me solely because I wanted a certain reaction from them.”_

_“It wasn’t solely…” Ahsoka trailed off at Anakin’s glare._

_His expression quickly softened into something gentler but weary. He discarded his outer belt and went to undoing his tabard. For whatever reason, he was having trouble with undoing the inner ties._

_After a while of watching him struggle, Ahsoka said, “Let me help.”_

_Ahsoka didn’t wait for an answer as she crossed the room and moved his hands out the way with her own to undo the ties._

_“There,” she said, looking up at him when she was done._

_“Thanks.”_

_She didn’t move away from him, though. And he didn’t go back to getting off his tabard. Like every time she was in a situation where neither party was sure who would make the first move, Ahsoka took the plunge. She kissed him. He returned it, taking her bottom lip between both of his, sucking on it, nipping on it between his teeth. The satisfying shock it caused beginning to spread a heat through her body that she was still getting used to; the frustrating feeling of there being too much clothing between them._

_She helped him get the tabard off. Then the outer tunic. They got the under tunic off, exposing scarred, hot skin. Ahsoka eagerly began to run her hands over it. Until Anakin suddenly grabbed her hands and pushed her away._

_“What?” Ahsoka heaved._

_“We…” Anakin’s chest expanded a few times as he paused to regain his breath. “We need to talk about this.”_

_They did. Because there just hadn’t been any time to over the last month. First, the Council sent them to arrest Rako Hardeen, who, unknown to them, was Obi-wan in disguise. Then Palpatine had given them the location of where the supposed murderer had escaped to. Then Obi-wan returned from the dead to Anakin and Ahsoka. Then there had been getting ready for the Festival of Lights on Naboo with a bunch of security sweeps and briefings to make sure there were no threats against the chancellor._

_Though, maybe they had just been avoiding it. Because they had found time since the first to have sex again a handful of times._

_That didn’t mean Ahsoka wanted to talk about it._

_Anakin, probably sensing her sentiment, gave her a tired smile and shook his head. Ahsoka sighed and sat back on the bunk. He sat back next to her._

_“So?” Ahsoka asked._

_“So… how do you feel about all this?”_

_Ahsoka gave Anakin what she hoped was her best unimpressed expression. Whether it was or not, it worked, and Anakin ran an awkward hand through his hair._

_“I mean…” Anakin trailed off and groaned._

_Ahsoka laughed. “You’re so bad at this.”_

_“I know! I just… I want to make sure that this is something you want. That you have the deciding power for yourself here because… well. You know.”_

_Ahsoka did know. Breha had taken one look at her and Anakin interacting at the Festival of Lights and straight-up asked Ahsoka if Anakin had coerced her into sleeping with him. Ahsoka had been so unprepared for the question that it had been impossible to believably deny something had happened, consensual though it may have been. When she finally stopped trying to deny it and asked how the woman had known, Breha scoffed and said, “You both look like you’re just itching to touch each other again. Like you’re going to and then remember that you can’t. You didn’t act that way before.”_

_Regardless, Ahsoka already had that talk with Breha. If Ahsoka had been anything but sure about it, Breha would have walked up to the Jedi Temple herself and reported the entire affair._

_“I want it,” Ahsoka replied finally. “I’m sure.”_

_And wasn’t that an understatement? Because while she’d experimented with herself before, with her own hand between her legs rubbing herself until the tight knot of tension burst, taking the edge and tension of an adrenaline high from battle with it—having that with someone else was an entirely new and addicting experience. Feeling someone else’s fingers between her legs. Feeling Anakin’s tongue on her sex. Both their pleasure vibrating back and forth in the Force between them._

_“Positive,” Ahsoka added when Anakin looked unsure._

_“And you can stop this. Any time you want. And I won’t hold it against you. I’m still going to train you and make sure you become a knight and—”_

_Ahsoka rolled her eyes and leaned forward to kiss him again. He was instantly silent, and Ahsoka couldn’t help but revel in this new power she apparently had over him. He must have felt that too, because he gave her an unimpressed look of his own when she pulled away._

_“Okay,” she said, leaning forward again._

_Anakin stopped her. She rolled her eyes again. He laughed._

_“Patience, my young padawan,” Anakin said in a husky tone._

_That really should_ not _have sounded as attractive as it did. Especially when in any other context, it would have frustrated her._

_In a different way anyway._

_Then he said, “I need to tell you something first. Put this in context. I… There’s… You’re not.”_

_“You have someone else on Coruscant,” Ahsoka stated._

_Anakin startled. “What? I… How did you—?”_

_Ahsoka saved him the trouble. “It makes sense. You always disappear when we have time off on Coruscant. And you always smell like them when you come back to the Temple. It lingers for a day or two.”_

_Anakin was startled again for a different reason. Ahsoka rolled her eyes a third time. Anakin scowled._

_“Keep doing that, and your eyes will get stuck that way.”_

_Ahsoka ignored him and said, “I don’t think anyone else notices the perfume thing. It’s faint. The only reason I smell it is that more often than not, we sleep in the same bed.”_

_“Any other secrets of mine that you want to reveal that you already know?”_

_“Not at the moment.”_

_Anakin leaned his head back on the wall._

_“We got together seriously before the war.”_

_“How serious?”_

_“Serious enough,” Anakin said with a vague hand gesture. He continued, “We made an agreement. That since we couldn’t see each other all the time and because of the war, we’re allowed to see other people in between. Though it was mostly for me. At the time, I didn’t think… I never thought I’d want to act on it. Not until…”_

_Ahsoka didn’t need him to clarify._

_“Just for during the war?” she asked._

_Anakin frowned. “I don’t… We didn’t talk about that part.”_

_“So you’re going to tell her about me? Or him? Them?”_

_“Her. And yes and no. I mean… she’s going to know about you but not_ about _you. We agreed to keep our professional lives separate from our relationship to avoid conflict.”_

_“Okay.”_

_“Okay?”_

_“Yep,” Ahsoka said with a shrug. “Any other secrets you want to tell me about yourself that I probably already know?”_

_Anakin huffed and raised his eyebrows. “What else do you know?”_

_“I’d probably surprise you. I’m a lot more observant than you think.”_

_“So I’m starting to understand,” Anakin said. And this time, he kissed her. And this time, he didn’t stop._

_It wasn’t until later, after they’d arrived at their destination and were preparing to start their campaign, that Ahsoka remembered that Anakin had said the same thing about keeping their professional lives separate regarding his friendship with Senator Amidala._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One thing about this chapter that I wanted to convey was a young woman who actually enjoys her first ventures into sex with someone else. It's gotten better over the years, but, traditionally, media has always portrayed young women coming to their sexual awakening with someone else as something that borders traumatic. And while that experience is valid for many young women, I think it's just as valid for a young woman to really enjoy it.
> 
> I hope you all are having a happy holidays! Thank you for all the kudos, comments, and subscriptions on the last chapter. I appreciate it! Keep it coming.


	4. A Reluctant Alliance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Padmé refuses to be left behind...

Padmé was long used to Anakin being late to their scheduled comms. Sometimes he even missed their scheduled comm calls completely. But since the war, while he was still habitually late, he hadn’t totally missed a call since the war without telling her in advance that he wasn’t going to make it.

So when he missed their scheduled call _and_ didn’t send a message ahead of time, Padmé started to get a little concerned. She was half tempted to call him or send a message of her own. But if he was doing something important, she didn’t want to disrupt him. Thus, the evening dragged by without any contact. She gave in to sending a quick message after putting Luke and Leia to bed before giving into a restless sleep.

The next morning, the first thing she did was check her messages. None.

She set her comm down and began to get ready for the day, all the while trying to rationalize the occurrence. It could be nothing. For all that Anakin’s love and caring could be all-consuming, he was prone to a little irresponsibility like not answering his comm. Or being late to almost everything. Or running headfirst into trouble if it meant doing what he thought was right. There really was _nothing_ to be worried about.

Still, Padmé decided today that she’d work from her home office.

During the afternoon, when her comm dinged with a new message, Padmé’s heart leapt, and she snatched it from the corner of her desk to read. She deflated some when she saw it was just Obi-wan. Not that she didn’t care for Obi-wan or that it wasn’t a pleasant surprise for him to be messaging her. It just wasn’t the one she’d been waiting on.

_Are you available for a visit?_

Padmé was far from Force-sensitive, but a bad feeling settled into her stomach. She sent a quick message that he could drop by her apartment before going back to her work. Moteé would let her know when Obi-wan arrived.

When she did, it appeared that her children had beat her to greeting their guest. Luke was asking questions a mile a minute about the Jedi, and Leia was yanking demandingly on Obi-wan’s arm for his attention.

“Luke. Leia. What have we discussed about being polite?” Padmé asked when she came in.

“Uh…” Luke began with wide-eyed innocence.

Before Leia could make an attempt to explain, Obi-wan said, “It’s quite alright, Senator. I didn’t mind.”

“Still.”

Because Obi-wan was one thing, but others weren’t as receptive to Luke’s and Leia’s enthusiasm when meeting new people and learning about new things. Though… it might have also been Padmé’s fault. She allowed them to speak as freely as they wanted to so long as they were respectful. To ask and inquire about the things they didn’t understand. In response, Padmé would give them an age-appropriate answer if there was one to give. And one that would stop them from asking more complicated questions that they weren’t ready for the answer to yet. Anakin hadn’t quite mastered that, always getting into a tangled and awkward web of the twins’ curiosity and desperately seeking Padmé’s help. Padmé thought it was quite adorable to witness.

“Can you give Master Kenobi and me some time?” Padmé asked.

“But we haven’t seen him in such a long time,” Luke whined.

“And that is my fault, younglings,” Obi-wan said. “I promise I’ll make some time as soon as I’m able. How about that?”

Luke and Leia exchanged a look. Leia finally nodded at Luke, who looked back at Obi-wan and said, “Okay.”

The two went back to their room, Luke a lot more sulkily than Leia.

“They’re right. It’s been such a long time since you’ve come for a visit,” Padmé said as she sat across from him.

“Yes. But pressing matters have made it a necessity.”

The pressing necessity of maintaining this charade that Obi-wan didn’t have more than a vague idea that she and Anakin were a lot more serious than any of them would admit openly. That he didn’t see a little boy from Tatooine in Luke’s face. That he didn’t recognize the stubborn set in Leia’s jaw when she was determined. All so he could have plausible deniability and not be openly in conflict with the duty he’d have to report it to the Council. All so Anakin could remain a Jedi.

A charade Padmé had been prepared to keep forever. A charade they might not have to keep for long if Anakin was serious about leaving the Order soon. She wondered what that would be like. What people would say.

“But that’s neither here nor there. And I’m afraid I’m not here on a social matter,” Obi-wan said gravely.

Padmé instantly knew.

“What happened to Anakin?”

“What do you know?” Obi-wan asked.

“Nothing. We just had a meeting scheduled, and he missed it without messaging that he was going to or rescheduling.”

Obi-wan sighed. “I’ll be honest. That doesn’t bode entirely well. I’m telling you this because you deserve to hear from us and not some breaking news if the Order is unable to keep it quiet. In light of your close relationship.”

Padmé nodded.

“We sent him on a simple recon mission after we got intel about a Separatist remnant. Anakin went to investigate, and we lost contact with him. The planet Suana is quite well known for its unusual electrical storms. And local authorities found the wreckage of his ship after one said storm and presumed whoever was flying it dead. But we have it on good authority that everything is not as it seems,” Obi-wan added hastily, probably upon seeing how Padmé’s face fell.

“Whose good authority?” Padmé asked.

Obi-wan hesitated.

“Obi-wan.”

“His former padawan. Knight Tano. If anyone would know that Anakin was dead, she would with a certainty. More certain than me,” Obi-wan added. “They’re… incredibly close.”

Padmé wasn’t particularly sure what Obi-wan meant by that, but he wouldn’t outright lie to her. If Anakin’s former padawan was sure that he wasn’t dead, then Padmé believed it.

“Now what?” Padmé asked.

“Master Windu was sent to investigate the matter.”

Padmé had seen Master Windu, but he’d never actually talked to her beyond disputing her accusation of Dooku being behind assassination attempts against her before the Clone Wars. But if she were to believe Anakin about it, the two were not on good terms. For certain, Anakin didn’t have a lot of good to say about him the rare times they broke their rule of keeping their professional lives mostly separate from their marriage. That didn’t mean Master Windu wouldn’t do his duty as a Jedi to investigate and find Anakin if he were really still alive.

Padmé shook the thought from her head. Anakin was still alive. She wouldn’t believe anything else. Not yet.

“And what does Master Windu think? Does he think Anakin is still alive?”

“He’s as uncertain as the rest of the Council is, but that’s irrelevant to his investigation.”

“I think it’s very relevant,” Padmé argued.

Padmé had learned in life that strong conviction in an idea or belief was just as critical as actual evidence of it. Because sometimes, without the conviction, people missed the clues that might prove a belief true. If she hadn’t been convinced she could take back her planet on her own when the Republic had abandoned it, she might not have found a way to pull it off. Or garnered the help she needed to do so.

Padmé would just have to take matters into her own hands. She wondered how soon Sabé could be here. Probably not in enough time. She’d have to think of something else.

“Padmé,” Obi-wan said in a longsuffering tone. “Please don’t do anything rash. The Jedi have it handled. We’re not just going to abandon one of our own without concrete proof.”

“I’m sure that’s true,” Padmé replied. And it wasn’t a lie. She was sure it was. But she was also sure they had different definitions of concrete proof. “I expect you’ll keep me updated.”

Obi-wan stared at Padmé for a long while before sighing.

“I shouldn’t be telling you this. But I have a feeling that you’re going to run off into trouble anyway if it means helping Anakin,” Obi-wan said as he took out his comm. Padmé’s pinged with a message from her office. “I just sent you Knight Tano’s comm information. I have it on good authority that she’s going to be… conducting her own investigation. If you’re planning to do the same, I rather you do it with a Jedi as backup. I doubt she’s had enough time between now and when I last saw her to leave yet, but I’d hurry to get in touch with her if I were you.”

Padmé smiled.

“Thank you, Obi-wan.”

“You didn’t give me much of a choice.”

“But you could have made it harder.”

“No wonder you and Anakin get along so well,” Obi-wan commented with a weary smile. He nodded, and then Moteé showed him out, while Padmé went back to her office.

As promised, a comm code from Obi-wan was in her messages, and Padmé immediately dialed it.

 _“Tano,”_ came the immediate answer.

Shortly after, the miniature image of a togruta woman with copper skin, white and blue lekku and montrals, and a silver headdress around her forehead appeared. Her blue eyes immediately widened upon seeing Padmé, but she quickly composed herself.

 _“Senator Amidala,”_ she said.

Padmé had to garner her own composure. She’d known Anakin was given a padawan. A snippy little togruta girl (aptly nicknamed Snips), he’d called her when the topic very briefly came up. Sometimes, Anakin had asked for advice on how to deal with her as a mentor. But because they went out their way to not to work the same missions, Padmé hadn’t had the occasion to meet her. Or so she’d thought. She had. The day this woman appeared in her apartment at Anakin’s request less than an hour before Palpatine was ousted. Padmé didn’t know how she hadn’t put it together before. Hadn’t even recalled her name when Obi-wan reminded her of it. It explained Obi-wan’s vagueness when he said they were “incredibly close.”

 _This_ was Ahsoka. Anakin’s _padawan_. Oh, she and Anakin were going to have an _extensive_ discussion when she got him out of whatever trouble he’d gotten into. But that was later.

“Knight Tano. I apologize for calling you so unexpectedly, but Master Kenobi gave me your comm number. He notified me of the unfortunate situation regarding Master Skywalker.”

_“Yes. It is unfortunate.”_

The young knight crossed her arms expectantly over her chest in what was probably an intimidating manner to most. A way to tell Padmé to get to the point without saying it. That was absolutely something she’d gotten from Anakin, no doubt. None at all.

“The Naboo have an invested interest in Anakin Skywalker, and my office plans to start its own investigation. Master Kenobi suggested that we team up.”

Wasn’t a total lie.

The Knight paused, then said, _“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”_

“My office investigating or us teaming up?”

 _“Both. Master Skywalker…”_ She averted her gaze before looking back. _“He places high value on your life. I can handle it. As a Jedi Knight, I’m trained for this sort of thing.”_

Did she…

“Be that as it is. I must insist.”

She looked away again before setting her features into a firm expression. _“I’m going to have to decline. Outsiders shouldn’t be getting involved in Jedi business.”_

The younger woman’s resolve impressed Padmé more than it frustrated her. No wonder she’d been knighted so young a few years back. According to Anakin, anyway.

“That’s unfortunate. It would have been much more efficient if we had. Naboo will just have to conduct our investigation independently,” Padmé said. “Have a good day. May the Force be with you. And may both our investigations be fruitful.”

She reached to cut off the comm. The knight suddenly said, _“Wait.”_

Padmé arched an eyebrow.

The knight sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, more reminiscent of Obi-wan than Anakin.

_“You’re not investigating on behalf of Naboo, are you? I mean, you’re doing this by yourself. Aren’t you?”_

“I don’t think the distinction matters.”

 _“It does. It really does.”_ A pause. _“Fine. You can come. I’ll send you the location to meet me at in an hour. Don’t be late.”_ Another pause. _“The only reason I’m allowing this is because Skyguy would kill me if I knew you went gallivanting off into possible hostile territory to find him, and something happened.”_

And that was when Padmé was sure the woman was aware of precisely what place Padmé had in Anakin’s life. As much as Padmé was sure of what place the knight had.

“Duly noted,” Padmé replied before clicking off the comm.

The message with their rendezvous came seconds later.

Without much time, Padmé let her assistant know that she’d be out of office, messaged Sabé to let her know what she was getting into, and let the twins know she’d be gone on an important mission for a few days and her handmaidens would be taking them to stay with Aunt Sola for the duration. Then she packed a small bag with supplies and a few blasters before putting on the casual outfit she usually wore for these kinds of missions.

When she got to the meeting place, a repair dock on level 1313, Ahsoka Tano was already there and waiting for her, casually talking to another human woman with curly brown piled atop her head and sides shaved.

“Relax, Trace. I’ll take care of her,” the Jedi said, patting the large cargo ship next to her twice.

“Don’t blame me if I find that extremely hard to believe considering the trouble that I _know_ you get into.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Trace gave Ahsoka a skeptical look. “Anyone who can find a way to make acquaintance with Rafa the way you did will inevitably get into trouble. Even if she’s a Jedi.”

“I think that says more about you. She’s your sister.”

Padmé cleared her throat, causing the two women to turn around.

“You’re here,” the knight said. She turned back to Trace. “We’ll catch up when I get back.”

The woman gave Ahsoka another skeptical look before leaving elsewhere.

“Knight Tano,” Padmé said, approaching the woman.

She hadn’t expected the woman to be taller than she was when she’d come to Padmé’s apartment four years ago. If she included her montrals, she was as tall as Anakin now. But even without them, Padmé would have had to crane her neck up to look at her face.

“Senator Amidala,” she greeted politely with a nod. “You can just call me Ahsoka.”

“Then I must insist on you calling me Padmé.”

Silence fell between them.

If Padmé hadn’t been certain before, she was positive now that this was the young woman Anakin was so excited for Padmé to meet and to be part of their family. Somehow, Padmé was comforted by the fact that she wasn’t the only one that was uncertain about all this. And by that, she didn’t mean the mission.

“Ready to go?” Ahsoka finally asked, gesturing up the ramp of the ship.

“Let’s.”

* * *

**_Coruscant, 2 nd year of the Clone Wars_ **

_It was rare that Anakin was not only on Coruscant, but also that Padmé wasn’t too occupied at the Senate to make time to spend with him. Or, when they were terribly unlucky, that she herself wasn’t off-planet for some diplomatic mission._

_And even though at any time, the High Council could call him for another mission that would take him away from her again for the next month or two or three, Padmé would not dwell on such a thing. She would enjoy the time she got with Anakin and relish that, so far, they’d been blessed with two full days to spend with each other._

_She woke up one morning to find Anakin was already gone from their bed. For a moment, Padmé worried that he’d been called back to the Jedi and that he hadn’t had the heart to wake her. That worry eased when she got a whiff of what must have been breakfast. She usually didn’t have Threepio bother with anything besides fresh fruit. She was just tying her robe on to go to the kitchen when Anakin entered the room with breakfast on a large platter._

_Typically, as a rule, Padmé didn’t bring food into her room. But today, she’d allow it._

_Anakin was unusually quiet as they ate breakfast while Padmé talked about one of the initiatives she and some of her colleagues were working on. While they kept most of their professional lives separate, they’d both clarified that to mean anything to do with the war. Some things still toed the line. The war was hard to get away from. But it was easy enough to manage._

_Padmé was halfway through relaying a conversation she’d had with her mother, who was constantly asking if she’d met anyone she’d liked enough to settle down with, when Anakin suddenly blurted out, “I’m with someone!”_

_Padmé blinked. “With someone?”_

_Anakin groaned, rubbing his hands over his face._

_“Let me back up,” he said. “You remember right before we got married. And we decided that our relationship would be open? At least during the war?”_

_“Yes.”_

_Of course, she did. It had been one of the three things they agreed on that evening. No secrets that they didn’t have to keep. Try their best to keep their professional lives separate so their marriage wouldn’t interfere with their duty to the Republic. And that. Why would he…_

_Oh. He was_ with _someone._

_“Oh,” Padmé said simply._

_“I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to let you know since technically it has to do with war. And she’s a Jedi. But we said no secrets, even though this is something we agreed to beforehand. And—”_

_Padmé put a finger to Anakin’s lips to silence him._

_“Let’s slow down.”_

_Anakin nodded._

_Frankly, Padmé wasn’t sure where to start. It wasn’t that she hadn’t meant it when she agreed that their relationship wouldn’t be exclusive. But, as far as she knew and he'd confirmed, Anakin hadn’t acted on it in the last year and a half. And she’d never really contemplated exactly how she’d feel if he did. Not because she doubted his devotion to her. He’d proven that well enough. But because it was evidence that this war, no matter how much they tried to avoid talking about it, was part of their marriage. And that the war was probably worse than what was even described in the Senate._

_“She’s a Jedi?” Padmé asked. She’d start there first._

_“Yeah… shocking. Right?” Anakin asked._

_“Not really.” Frankly, Padmé half expected that it might be Obi-wan he ended up with. But perhaps that was the lingering fantasy of her fourteen-year-old self. “The Jedi are people too.”_

_“I’ll be honest. Sometimes it doesn’t feel that way.”_

_“But she does feel that way. To you, that is.”_

_“I… She shares some of my unorthodox ways. I think that’s why we get along so well.”_

_“So she’s the female version of you?” Padmé asked with a grin._

_“Hardly,” Anakin said with a roll of his eyes. “She’s better than I am in a lot of ways. And I just… If you don’t like the idea, you can tell me. Especially when I probably see her more than I see you. Since we’re both fighting in the war.”_

_And of that, Padmé could admit to herself that she was a little jealous. But in a good way. As in, she wished she could spend time like that with Anakin. Not that Anakin would spend less time with this other person._

_“Ani,” Padmé said. “Does she make you happy? Does she help you cope with things that you can’t cope with alone?”_

_“Yes,” Anakin said immediately, looking down as though he was ashamed that was so._

_Padmé smiled, putting a hand on Anakin’s face and making him meet her eyes._

_“Then that’s all that matters. That and you coming back to me,” she declared before shrugging the shoulders of her robe off, revealing her bare breasts. “Now, since she does get to see you more often, that just means I have to make sure to leave more of my mark on you. So you don’t forget,” she teased._

_Anakin used the Force to levitate the tray onto the nightstand behind him before saying with a grin, “Oh, Senator. I could never forget about you.”_

_“Let’s make sure. Just to be safe,” Padmé said, capturing his lips._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos, comments, and subscriptions. I appreciate it! Keep it coming. Hope you all have a safe and peaceful New Year!


	5. Drawing the Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ahsoka and Padmé find common ground...

Anakin was going to kill Ahsoka for letting Padmé tag along on this mission. But it wasn’t as though Ahsoka had a choice. She recognized that look in Padmé’s eyes. That fierce determination to do exactly what it was that she put her mind to no matter the danger and no matter what anyone had to say about it. She reminded Ahsoka of Anakin in that way. And maybe that was part of the reason Padmé had married him. Because on paper, Ahsoka didn’t think the two were much of a match.

Based on what Ahsoka heard of Padmé in the media, she was all about advocating for change within the system and in the context of the rules that the system would allow. Order and sometimes necessary longsuffering for the sake of not destroying the system. Views that were heavily influenced by her easy, privileged, and sheltered upbringing on Naboo. Even though she’d had to defeat the Trade Federation and end their invasion of Naboo herself, she’d still turned them over to the Republic for judgment rather than letting the Naboo courts handle the offense. Anakin didn’t care about a system that allowed corrupt individuals to take advantage of loopholes in said system and corrupt it to their gain and the broader galaxy’s detriment. No matter how pure and beneficial said system was supposed to work in theory. Views heavily influenced by his initial years of growing up on Tatooine as a slave. He was a borderline anarchist. Chaos and destruction followed Anakin wherever he went when he perceived an injustice.

Either way, it was a wonder to Ahsoka that the two managed to stay married with such opposing ideologies. Or maybe it was because of their polar opposite ideologies that they worked so well together. Maybe they balanced each other out.

Regardless, Ahsoka knew Padmé would have gone right ahead to find Anakin herself. So even though Ahsoka didn’t think Skyguy would like it, she figured she may as well bring the Senator along.

Ahsoka and Padmé hadn’t exchanged many words by the time they got into hyperspace. Padmé had asked where Suana was, and afterward asked what other details she had on Anakin’s disappearance. The answer to that was not much more than Padmé had. Ahsoka was running off the information she’d gotten from the Council. If there was anything else, she didn’t have access to the mission reports to find out. She could have asked Obi-wan, but he was already risking a lot by not reporting her to the Council.

Once they were in hyperspace, Ahsoka left the cockpit and found Padmé sitting in the ship's communal area.

“I started some research on Suana. It’s quite well known for its electrical atmosphere and electrical storms, but beneath that, it’s a planet full of beautiful green oases. While their storms are sometimes violent and ships are regularly damaged in them, fatalities are exceedingly rare. Most ships are built to withstand that kind of thing. Especially if Anakin was using one issued from the Temple,” Padmé explained.

“So what I’m hearing is that you suspect there might have been some foul play involved?” Ahsoka asked, her arms crossed.

“Essentially.”

“Which also means there was some truth to the intel the Council got about the Separatists remnant.” Ahsoka frowned. “I knew Skyguy shouldn’t have taken this mission alone.”

“Weren’t you planning on investigating alone?”

“Fair.”

Silence fell. An awkward one. Awkward, not because there was nothing else to say. Contrarily, there was _plenty_ to say. Ahsoka had a good feeling that Padmé knew who she was talking to as well as Ahsoka knew who Padmé was. How? Ahsoka wasn’t sure. But Anakin’s strength had never been subtlety or keeping track of his deceptions. So Padmé likely knew for the same reason that Ahsoka did.

Ahsoka tolerated the silence for a few more moments before she decided to do something about it.

“How about you and I just cut the pretense and stop acting like we don’t really know who the other is?” Ahsoka asked bluntly as she took a seat. “You’re his wife. Right?”

“How did you figure it out?”

Ahsoka raised an eye marking and said, “If you’ve known Anakin at least as long as I have, you also know he’s an awful liar. At least to people close to him. It didn’t take long to piece it together. Especially after… after we got together.”

“I wish I could say the same about you. I didn’t figure out you were his… what do you call yourselves?”

“Partners,” Ahsoka replied. “It’s vague enough and flexible enough to be true in all definitions without lying. Besides, Anakin hated the idea of being called my boyfriend. He thinks it’s juvenile.”

Padmé laughed. Giggled really. “That sounds like Ani. So… partner. I didn’t know it was you until you showed up in my apartment that day. And even then, I still didn’t really know. I thought you were just another Jedi. Not his padawan. I would have never… I would have never contemplated that.”

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. Padmé didn’t have to say what she’d been thinking for Ahsoka to know her thoughts anyway. She’d had this discussion with a few people before. Breha, more directly, and Obi-wan in a more vague way though they’d both known what they were talking about.

“What?” Padmé asked with a frown.

“You can relax. Your husband’s not some predator. I knew exactly what I was getting into and wanted exactly what I was getting into. I didn’t feel coerced or pressured.”

“I know Anakin’s not like that. But still. He can be very eager. If I had known, I might have discouraged him from pursuing you.”

“He didn’t really pursue as much as we just fell together,” Ahsoka corrected, irritation seeping into her tone. “Besides, everyone thinks it’s perfectly acceptable that I fought on the front lines of the war when I was sixteen. That I’ve been captured, kidnapped, tortured, watched people get blown up, and almost got myself blown up on a few occasions. _All_ by the time I was sixteen. But people want to be concerned that my master could have been pressuring me into having sex. I can fight in a war and plan an entire assault against the Separatists at sixteen, but I don’t have the capacity to decide who I want to sleep with because he’s five years older than me and happens to be my teacher. _That’s_ where you and the Republic draw the line. _That’s_ when you want to consider that I was a child.”

Padmé looked away from Ahsoka.

“Look. It’s not your fault. Most people don’t think of it that way,” Ahsoka sighed.

Padmé looked back up. “For what it’s worth, children fighting a war isn’t something I condone.”

“Weren’t you willing to, though? To save your planet?”

“Doesn’t mean I should have. And it doesn’t mean you should have either. Someone should have spoken up for us. The Jedi should have spoken up for you.”

Ahsoka shrugged. “Maybe. Their hands were kind of tied by the chancellor at the time, though.”

“Is that why you got involved with the Clone Relief Initiative after the war?”

“Not really,” Ahsoka said as she relaxed. This was something easier for her to talk about. Something she didn’t have to get too defensive about. “I mean… maybe some part of my subconscious did it for that reason. But many of the clones are my friends. And with the war suddenly over, I didn’t have a lot to do. So when Rex asked me about helping out, I jumped at the chance. Besides, it was nice to be part of something that was clearly the right thing to do after Palpatine.”

“You’ve done a lot of good work.”

“Sometimes, it doesn’t feel like it. Not when we can’t get this stupid bill through to get the Republic aid that we need.”

“I noticed. But you and the clone’s representatives have been able to get it brought to the floor twice. That in and of itself is the bulk of the work.”

“Yeah. But it doesn’t matter if we can’t get it passed. Obi-wan thinks if we wait until after the elections of some of the planets and sectors, more sympathetic ears might be voted in. But the clones shouldn’t have to wait that long. It’s already been four years.”

Padmé looked at Ahsoka with slightly wide eyes as she said, “Well, you’re not lacking passion. That’s for sure.”

Ahsoka felt herself flush as she tapped into the Force to release some of her frustration.

“Sorry. It’s just…” She sighed. “It’s not right.”

“Well, maybe you don’t have to wait. Maybe there’s something else you can do to push it through.”

“Breha suggested that we’re approaching it wrong. That instead of trying to appeal to the frostbitten hearts of our opponents, we need to convince them that this bill benefits them. I thought she meant bribing them, but apparently, there’s a difference,” Ahsoka grumbled.

Padmé laughed, and Ahsoka glared at the woman.

“I’m sorry. But you look woefully like Ani right now. Perhaps I can help you, though. We’re going to be in hyperspace for a couple of days, right?”

Ahsoka nodded.

“Okay,” Padmé said, putting her own datapad away. “Think of it this way. There are some exceptions, but in general, what do Senators want.”

Ahsoka shrugged. “Power? To stuff their own coffers?”

Padmé smiled and rolled her eyes. “You clearly don’t have a high opinion of politicians.”

“Can you blame me?”

“No. Regardless, except for few exceptions, most senators want to do right by their constituents.”

Ahsoka scoffed. “Most?”

“Don’t let a seemingly deafening and vocal minority fool you. You’ll be surprised to learn that most are a lot more… middle ground in their beliefs. Trust me, your initiative has more of the sympathy and respect of the Senate than you think. Many of them know it’s the right thing to do. But they’re afraid of what will happen if they approve this bill and the clones start settling onto their planets and in their sectors.”

“So… they’re xenophobic?”

“Yes and no. To be certain, some of them are, but that’s beside the point. The point is that you have to address their fears, show them that you understand them—”

“But I don’t understand them.”

“—and then _gently_ dismiss their fears and prove why they’re wrong by showing them they’d benefit from the passing of the bill. Not take away from them.”

Ahsoka started to tell Padmé that was the same thing Breha said, and it was just as unhelpful to her now as it had been a day and a half ago. Padme started talking before she could voice this.

“Now, with all that as a background, tell me some of the opposition that you’ve gotten to the bill. One at a time.”

Ahsoka looked at Padmé skeptically. How was rehashing _that_ going to help besides make her more frustrated?

“I know we’ve officially just met, but trust me on this,” Padmé said as though she’d read Ahsoka’s thoughts.

Ahsoka threw her hands in the air before dropping them in her lap and saying, “That passing this bill and accepting clones onto their planets mean more people to compete for jobs in an already unstable economy. Whatever the hell that means.”

“Good. So what would you say to allay that fear?”

“That it won’t affect their economy.”

“No. Not that it won't affect their economy, but that it will affect their economy for the better. Think. Suppose this bill is passed and was implemented in certain sectors. People are going to be needed to help in administrating, processing, vetting, and social work. It would create hundreds of thousands of jobs in all kinds of industries,” Padmé explained.

Ahsoka blinked. She… had never thought of it that way.

“What’s another one?” Padme asked.

“That they’d have to deal with a bunch of war vets with nothing to contribute to their societies except violence.”

“And what would you say to that?”

“Well, they wouldn’t harm anyone.”

“It’s not enough to say that. You have to turn their con into a boon.”

“That the only violence the clones ever partook in was to protect those they’re loyal to. Like the Republic. And that they’d be as loyal and protective of any planet that took them in?” Ahsoka asked.

Padmé grinned. “Good start. But we can do better than that.”

Then, Padmé took out her datapad and stylus and gestured her over.

Ahsoka hesitated. Though the woman’s intention seemed pure, Ahsoka couldn’t be sure. Padmé reminded Ahsoka of a much gentler and kinder version of Breha. Not to say that Breha wasn’t kind or gentle. Before today, Ahsoka would have said that Breha was the kindest and gentlest person she knew. But Padmé somehow had that beat. By now, Breha would have forced Ahsoka to put her work aside and do something relaxing. Think about it later. Not toughed through it with her like this.

Finally, Ahsoka said, “I can probably take it from here. You don’t have to help me because… well, you know.” Ahsoka made a vague gesture.

Padmé smiled.

“I think we’re both fully aware of Anakin’s intentions when he wanted us to meet. And I also think we’re both fully away that Anakin can… have certain high ideals and expectations that people might not be comfortable meeting. If they can meet them at all.”

Ahsoka got the feeling that was Padmé’s way of saying that she had just as many apprehensions about Anakin’s idea of what he wanted with all of them as Ahsoka did. It was nice to know.

“So let’s not worry about any of that,” Padmé continued. “No pressure. I’d really like to help. Like you said. It’s the right thing to do.”

Apprehension alleviated, for now, Ahsoka crossed the room to sit next to the shorter, petite woman.

“You know, if I had talked about this with Skyguy, he would have been no help. He’d have suggested I just use my lightsabers to threaten people.”

“Which is one of the reasons I keep him as far away from the Senate and out of my work as possible.”

* * *

**_Coruscant, 1 Day After The Battle of Coruscant_ **

_“So that chip you gave me to look at,” Tech said over the holo. “Someone really doesn’t want anyone to find out what’s on it.”_

_Ahsoka exchanged a concerned glance with Rex next to her._

_“What is this thing anyway?” Tech asked._

_“It’s not important,” Ahsoka replied immediately._

_“You never know. Finding out what exactly this thing is and where you got it might help me get into it faster.”_

_“But you can get into it regardless. Right?” Ahsoka asked._

_“Of course, I can get into it,” Tech said, looking insulted that she even asked. “It’ll just take a while longer without knowing—”_

_“Then it’ll just take a while longer. Trust me on this. It’s better you have the least amount of details possible,” Ahsoka assured._

_Tech gave her a skeptical look but nodded. “I’ll contact you once I have something.”_

_Ahsoka nodded back, and the holo clicked off._

_“Something really tells me that we’re not going to like whatever it is that we find on that chip,” Rex said as he turned to her._

_“Me too,” Ahsoka agreed._

_It was a feeling she’d had long before now, since right after Fives was killed for supposedly trying to assassinate the Chancellor after a virus negatively impacted him. Despite the reassurance of the Kaminoans and the Chancellor, something just… hadn’t set well with her. For a variety of reasons. Because of her closeness with the clones. Because he’d been so desperate for them to believe him when they found him. Because he’d been so scared when he was about to tell them what was going on before he’d been killed. Because the Kaminoans hadn’t been concerned by the possibility that it might be more than a virus. That it might be a defect with their “product.” Because the Chancellor seemed so dismissive and unconcerned, not willing to consider any possibility other than a virus. Because it all just wrapped up too neatly._

_She’d mulled it over for days. Tried broaching it with Anakin, but he dismissed it because the Chancellor assured it had been nothing to worry about. Not placated by that, Ahsoka went to Rex. And with a little coaxing, he agreed to help her. Covertly, they agreed. When they had time and in between missions. The only other person in on it was Kix. And that was because he had to do the operation to remove Rex’s chip and come up with a reason no one would be any the wiser. Something that Kix reminded them both could get him sent back to Kamino for reconditioning._

_“I really think we should tell General Skywalker about this,” Rex said._

_“No.”_

_“Commander,” Rex began and then sighed. “Kid, regardless of whether anything is up or not, this investigation is an implication toward the chancellor of wrongdoing. An unauthorized investigation on a matter that’s supposed to be closed. It’s toeing treason, if not outright. And the queen of Alderaan throwing her weight around won’t help a second time. We could use the general on our side in this. At the very least, we both know Chancellor Palpatine wouldn’t allow anyone to accuse_ him _of treason.”_

_“I may not be sure about the chancellor. But he’s Anakin’s friend. Anakin trusts him.”_

_“He trusts you too.”_

_Rex was obviously talking about more than just as a padawan, a fighting partner, a comrade, a friend. It took a lot for Ahsoka not to avoid Rex’s gaze._

_Ahsoka shook her head. “I won’t put Anakin in that position. Besides, it might be that we’re fretting over nothing. It might all check out just like the Kaminoans and the chancellor said.”_

_Rex gave her the look he sometimes gave Anakin when he said something they all knew was bullshit._

_“We both know it’s not nothing.”_

_“Maybe. But until I’ve got proof, I’m not going to worry Anakin over it.”_

_Rex didn’t say anything for a long time. Finally, “Fine. But the second we get anything concrete, we take this straight to him. Someone is trying to hide something. And my brothers got killed for it. I don’t want someone trying to kill you for it too.”_

_“I can take care of myself.”_

_“It’s not if you can that worries me. It’s if you will.”_

_Ahsoka gave a parting smile before leaving the barracks and heading back to the Jedi Temple. She hadn’t expected to find Anakin there on her way to her room._

_“Oh. Hey,” Ahsoka said, suppressing her surprise. “I… what are you doing here? Are they sending us back out already? Did I miss a comm?”_

_“No. Just went to see Master Yoda about something.”_

_Her master could be broody even on the best of days. Over the years, she’d become one of the go-to people sent to deal with him in those moods. But the dejection and turmoil in his tone wasn’t his usual brand of broodiness. Something deeper was going on. And though she really had not intended to spend any of her day coaxing Anakin out of a mood, and frankly wasn’t in the mood to, she owed it to him anyway. He’d do it for her._

_“Are you okay?” she asked. When he didn’t answer, Ahsoka furrowed her brow. “Anakin. Serious. You’re starting to scare me. Are you okay?” Then it dawned on her that there was only one thing that could put Anakin in this kind of mood between now and yesterday after he and Obi-wan had saved the chancellor. “Is everything okay with… you know?”_

_She hit the issue right on the head because Anakin wouldn’t meet her gaze._

_“Your rooms or mine?” Ahsoka asked._

_They ended up in his, sitting on the couch in the small living area._

_“So, what is it?” Ahsoka asked, turning to face him. “She break up with you?”_

_“No. Nothing like that.” Then he said dejectedly, “She’s pregnant.”_

_That threw Ahsoka for a loop for two reasons._

_The first was that he was so openly talking about his other partner. Ahsoka knew about her. Knew he went to see her when they were on Coruscant, and he disappeared from the temple. Even had a good idea of her identity. But Anakin never talked much about her outside that first time he told Ahsoka about her. His reason was that he didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize her future with the Jedi. When Ahsoka pointed out that they’d both be in hot water for their own relationship, he’d disagreed. He could shoulder the blame for their relationship if they were caught. He’d let the Council assume it was an abuse of his power as her master. At worst, they’d ship her off to a mind healer to help her cope with the, in his words, “traumatizing revelation.” That would be trickier, he argued, if she knew all the details of his other relationship. That he wouldn’t make her complicit in something she had nothing to do with. There were ways to argue with that, but Ahsoka had let him have it._

_Ahsoka guessed they were breaking that agreement now._

_The second reason Ahsoka was thrown was what he’d actually said._

_“Congratulations,” Ahsoka gave after a moment, lacking anything better to say._

_Anakin huffed and leaned forward, arms resting on his knees._

_“I guess,” he said gruffly._

_Ahsoka furrowed her brow. “You’re not happy. You don’t want her to go through with it?”_

_“I had a dream—a vision,” he corrected. “A vision of her dying in childbirth.”_

_“That’s why you talked to Master Yoda. What did he say?”_

_“That I should rejoice in her death,” Anakin snapped._

_Ahsoka frowned. She… had her issues with the Council. Sometimes they could be a little insensitive and hopelessly out of touch. But they tried. They weren’t so cruel. Certainly, Ahsoka had never known Master Yoda to be._

_“Even when you told him who she was? That the baby was yours?”_

_“I didn’t tell him all that. Just that someone close to me died.”_

_“Why not?”_

_“You know why. If they find out about her, that I married her, that we’re having a child. They’ll expel me.”_

_And that was a lot more revelations in one day than Ahsoka had been expecting. So much for not being complicit._

_“But it doesn’t matter. His answer won’t change. We’re supposed to be Jedi. No attachments. He doesn’t care. They never care,” Anakin groaned._

_“I think…” Ahsoka shook her head. “That’s an unfair assessment. If you give him more details, he might be able to help you more. When I went to him about my visions of—”_

_“It’s not going to change anything.”_

_“But if you—”_

_“Why are you defending him?” Anakin snapped. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”_

_“I’m just trying to help,” Ahsoka snapped back._

_“Well, you failed.”_

_“You won’t even listen to—”_

_“Just go away and leave me the fuck alone.”_

_He’d hadn’t shouted. But he may as well have given the harshness of his tone and the fact that he’d blocked her out in the Force._

_Regardless, she could be cruel too._

_“Is that an order from my master or a request from my boyfriend?”_

_He turned to look at her, expression hot with fury. It would have made men three times her age across all comparable species cower. She’d seen them cower from it._

_Ahsoka did not._

_“That’s an order. Now get out.”_

_It was one of the rare orders from him that, for once, Ahsoka had no problem following._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoda's response to Anakin going to him about his visions is a hotly contested argument in the Star Wars fandom. I personally think Yoda wasn't trying to be callous. But he made assumptions about Anakin's vision. I'm pretty sure he thought Anakin was talking about Obi-wan. Another Jedi who signed up for the dangers being a Jedi put him in. But I think if Anakin had said it was Padmé, Yoda would have been more helpful. He wouldn't have even have had to admit she was his wife and the baby was his (though they probably would have suspected). Everyone knew they were at least friends. And canonically, Yoda guided Ahsoka through her visions of Padmé's assassination. That said, I do understand Anakin's reservations for not being a little more open about it because of some of his experiences with the Counci. So it was just a double-edged sword.
> 
> Thank you for all the kudos, comments, and subscriptions. I appreciate it! Keep it coming.


	6. Shattered Ideals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Padmé learns more about the Jedi...

Padmé could see why Anakin liked Ahsoka. She could _really_ see it. She’d once teasingly asked him if he was dating the female version of himself, and he denied it. Yet, they were very similar in personality. Kind, a strong sense of right and wrong with a sort of disarming charm that made people let their guard down. A strong disdain for politics. She’d also seen a hint of her husband’s hotheadedness. And seeing that she probably wasn’t supposed to be investigating Anakin’s disappearance, Padmé thought it was safe to guess that she was loyal to the people she held dear. Would disregard rules to maintain that loyalty.

However, she was also very different. She was a lot more flexible than Anakin in her thinking. More willing to see things from another perspective, even if it clashed with her own. A lot more patient and even-keeled. More thoughtful and less oblivious socially than Anakin could be. And definitely more suited to dealing with politics than Anakin would _ever_ be despite her apparent disdain for it.

“You know,” Padmé joked as she sat next to the togruta woman in the cockpit. “if you’re ever looking for a career change, I think you’d excel in the Senate.”

“Oh, stars, no,” Ahsoka replied with a laugh. “I deal with it out of necessity for the clones. But to do this full-time? I’ll leave it to you, Senator.”

“Well, the offer is out there if you ever change your mind.”

“You’d have to fight Breha for me then. She said something similar once. Said that if I ever got tired of being a Jedi and dealing with Anakin, she’d keep a position on her advisory board open for me.”

Ahsoka also talked about Queen Breha of Alderaan a lot. But Padmé wasn’t surprised by that. Their friendship was a matter of somewhat public knowledge after Breha had thrown her weight as queen around when Ahsoka fell under suspicion of treason.

Breha got her hands on Ahsoka before anyone else could when she’d fled, according to what Anakin told her and what Padmé had pieced together from the news. Then she would let neither the Jedi nor the Republic get to Ahsoka, arguing some combination of asylum and diplomatic immunity that Padmé had been sure wouldn’t hold up under scrutiny. But it hadn’t mattered. Making the argument hold up under scrutiny hadn’t been Breha’s goal. It was to stall the treason case while the military prosecution, the Senate, and the Jedi argued whether or not Breha had the power to keep Ahsoka from their jurisdiction. Because when the queen of a well-behaved, if outspoken, critical core world got involved in a matter, people paid attention. Breha’s goal had been to gain enough time for Anakin to perform an investigation and find the true culprit. Anakin had even asked Padmé about possibly helping with her defense if it came down to it.

_“I know it would break what we agreed to,” Anakin said after he’d vented that Breha wouldn’t even let him know where she’d tucked Ahsoka away. “But I can’t lose her Padmé.”_

Padmé brushed it off as the close bond between friends that Anakin was prone to form with people he loved. Like Obi-wan. In hindsight, though, his desperation had made more sense, and Padmé wondered why she’d never put together the identity of his student and the identity of his lover before.

In response to Ahsoka’s statement, though, Padmé said, “I’ll have to discuss it with her then. Maybe we can work out a custody arrangement.”

Ahsoka rolled her eyes and chuckled as they dropped out of hyperspace, and she flew them onto the planet.

“So,” Padmé began after they’d docked. “Where should we start?”

“Well, first thing is finding the location of the crash site. This is the part where the cooperation of the local authorities would help.”

“Why can’t you get it?”

“Because the authorities have been notified that Master Windu is the Jedi coming to investigate. If I try to go to them, they’ll inform the Jedi Council. Or at least, they’ll inform Master Windu. And they very expressly forbid me from coming here.”

“But you came anyway. Why does it matter if they know you’re here now?”

“Because it’s one thing for me to have disobeyed a direct order the first time. It’s another thing if they find me here and order me to stay out of it a second time and I disobey.”

“So what you’re saying is that even when you’re outright disobeying the council, there are boundaries and limits that you follow?” Padmé teased as they walked the streets of the small town.

“No,” Ahsoka replied. “I mean. There are. We rarely outright disobey the Council, though. Usually, we try to actually follow their orders, just not in the manner they intended. But that’s not what I’m concerned about necessarily.”

“Oh?”

“It’s… Let’s just say the Council has been uninterested thus far in addressing me and Anakin’s apparent closeness, and we try not to give them a reason to. As long as we don’t say anything or do anything so overt, the Council will continue not to act.”

Padmé frowned.

“They know?”

“We’re not really sure. I think they just suspect there’s something between us that neither of us acts on. At least. There’s a reason they called me when they lost all communication with him,” Ahsoka said.

Padmé didn’t reply, though not for lack of anything to say. While she was married to a Jedi, there was only so much she actually knew about them. And while she trusted Ani and the things he did tell her… well, like everyone, his perceptions could be skewed by his biases. Anakin had made their relationship out to be this big deal if the Council found out. But from what Ahsoka was saying, they already suspected something and weren’t doing anything about it. They couldn’t care about it that much if they turned a blind eye to something so blatant. Padmé found the courage to indulge in her curiosity after they found a place to rent a speeder.

“Would it really be that bad if the Council found out? Concretely that is. Are the Jedi that opposed to love and relationships?” Padmé asked.

Ahsoka sighed as they waited on their speeder.

“I apologize if that was offensive. I’ve just never had the chance to talk to another Jedi about it. Not openly.”

Ahsoka shook her head. “It’s not that. It’s just that it’s hard to explain it to someone who isn’t part of the order.” She paused to collect her thoughts and then said, “The short of it is yes. It would be a big deal if the Council found out. The long answer is that while it would be, probably not for the reasons Anakin has led you to believe. Or at least, not _just_ the reasons Anakin has led you to believe. The truth is, short of turning to the dark side, no one’s been expelled from the order for infractions against the Jedi Code in centuries. Voluntarily left, yes. But expelled? No. Certainly not because people haven’t broken the code, but because either they were a lot more subtle about it than Anakin and I are or because the Council was just as reluctant to deal with it over the centuries as they are now.”

“I don’t understand. It’s against your rules. Right?”

“Yes… But… Okay. This is going to require a bit of a deep dive into Jedi philosophy. Let me know if I lose you.”

Padmé nodded.

“Here’s the thing. The problem is that even amongst the Jedi, there’s a lot of debate about what our code really means. The gist of it is that there’s nothing at all wrong with attachments themselves, but that they lead to an inherently higher risk of turning to the dark side. And because of the great power that we wield, it’s best for Jedi to avoid them altogether and dedicate their lives to the service of the galaxy. Some argue that attachment equals all emotional connections. But you’d be hard-pressed to find a Jedi Master that wouldn’t die for their padawan or consider their lineage family. That presumes the existence of some kind of emotional connection. Some, like Master Kenobi, would argue that we’re allowed to have those feelings, but we’re never allowed to act on them.”

“And what do you think?” Padmé asked once they'd mounted their speeder.

“I,” Ahsoka said as she started their ride, “think it’s a bunch of bullshit. And that’s not just because I’m in a relationship myself. I did the research on it. There was a time, before this, that the Jedi didn’t have these kinds of restrictions. Then the great Sith War happened, and the Republic was reorganized and with it the Jedi. It’s not exactly clear what happened. It was even before Master Yoda’s time. But based on what I could tell, the Republic was afraid the Jedi would become like the Sith. That if we formed powerful biological lineages, we would become dynasties over the years and threaten to take over the Republic eventually.”

Padmé thought about her own twin children. So young, but apparently so powerful in the Force. Not just because Anakin was biased and said so. Not only because Obi-Wan, who could also be accused of bias, said so. But because the Jedi themselves had notified her when one of their finders knocked on her door to convince her to turn them over to the Order to be trained. They’d used all kinds of scare tactics that might have convinced Padmé if she didn’t already have some knowledge of the Force. As it was, she ended up unequivocally and angrily putting the finder out her apartment with a firm decline to their offer.

“So the Jedi back then changed the interpretation of their code to erase the possibility and placate the Republic at the time,” Ahsoka continued. “It’s not clear to me, though, that the Jedi _actually_ planned to live by the rule and that they weren’t just… well…”

“Playing politics?” Padmé asked with an arched eyebrow.

Ahsoka sighed. “Yes. And, mind you, I’m no Jedi historian. But when you get into a situation like I did, you really start to wonder if there’s a way to reconcile what you want with one of the core values of the belief system you’ve been raised in. I searched everything that I had access to in the archives. Everything that Skyguy had access to in the archives once they made him a master. I read every version and evolution of our code over the years that I could find. There’s nothing in either that explicitly states that a Jedi can’t serve the code and have ‘attachments.’ Nothing except what some people who were probably playing politics with the Republic said it was.”

Padmé frowned. “But you can’t be the first person to figure that out. Surely one of your masters or people on the Jedi Council knows this.”

“Either a thousand years of dogma have blinded them to what’s right there, and the only reason I found it was because I have an invested interest in seeing it that way or—”

“Or they already know all that.”

“At least a few of them. It’s the only reason they would willingly look the other way when something so blatant is happening under their noses. And the thing is, I don’t think me and Skyguy are the only ones.” Ahsoka’s lips pursed in thought. “The war changed us. I think… I don’t think a lot of us would have made it through the war without our attachments. I think a lot more of us would have gone dark without them.”

It made Padmé wonder just how many Jedi had fallen to the dark side during the war that the Jedi weren’t telling the Senate about.

“Then the answer is simple. Isn’t it?” Padmé asked. “If one of your core tenants is based on a fallacy to keep you in the good graces of the Republic, it needs to be abolished. Especially when there’s evidence that it’s more harmful than it is helpful.”

“You would think it would be that easy,” Ahsoka replied. “But what is anyone supposed to do? Go to the Council and tell them that a thousand years of tradition is based on a possible conjecture and that we should abandon it? Besides, their concerns aren’t all the way unwarranted. There are enough cases of Jedi’s attachment causing them to go dark.”

“Was it the attachment? Or that they didn’t think they had anyone else to turn to?”

Ahsoka didn’t answer.

Padmé didn’t have to be a Jedi to know they were both thinking the same thing. Thinking how Anakin, feeling like there was no one else to turn to, almost turned to the help of a Sith to prevent his fears. How the Sith had taken advantage of Anakin, exaggerated Anakin’s differences with the Jedi, groomed Anakin to do whatever the Sith wanted in exchange for help that it appeared the Jedi wouldn’t give. How the Sith had been so close to winning, to taking Anakin away from them both, if Padmé and Ahsoka in their own separate meddling hadn’t figured out what was happening and intervened.

“Sounds to me like the Jedi have the kind of attachment to their traditions that they’re afraid of their members having,” Padmé said thoughtfully. “Which is even more of an argument to abolish that idea. They can’t even follow it.”

Ahsoka laughed. “I see why Skyguy likes you. You share his idealism. I’m not saying that I disagree with you. I’m just saying that it’s a lot harder in practice than it is in theory.”

Padmé smiled. “I see why Ani likes you. You share his realism.”

* * *

**_Coruscant, 3 Days After The Battle of Coruscant_ **

_Padmé had accepted long ago that nothing about her marriage to Anakin Skywalker would be typical or meet her fantasies. Therefore it was only natural that her pregnancy wasn’t the completely joyous occasion that Padmé imagined it would be. While she’d been thrilled, her excitement was tempered by the risk her baby’s birth would pose to exposing her marriage for their Jedi father. She hadn’t been sure how Anakin would react either. They’d discussed children. But not seriously and certainly not as a possibility that could happen any time soon. More of as a far-off idea many years gone from the war. And while their age difference had never given Padmé much concern before, she’d been struck with the realization that he was so young. That it was possible he wouldn’t be ready for the responsibility of fatherhood so young. She certainly hadn’t been at his age. But to her delight, he’d been thrilled. And in that moment, when she’d seen him for the first time in months, Padmé had been sure everything would be fine._

_Then the nightmares started. Of Padmé dying in childbirth. And despite her reassurances, Anakin’s visions of his mother’s death had proven true._

_Then Palpatine made a bid for more emergency powers that all but officially made him absolute ruler._

_Now Padmé wasn’t sure of anything anymore._

_She absently placed a hand on her stomach, rubbing the place her son was kicking her ribs._

_“How are you feeling?” Anakin asked from where he was seated next to her while watching the sunset._

_She wondered if he sensed her worry. Padmé forced a smile to try to ease his concern. “He’s kicking.”_

_Anakin laughed. The sound was soothing. He smiled so little nowadays, let alone laughed._

_“With a kick like that, it has to be a girl.”_

_“Trust me on this, Ani. It’s my motherly intuition,” Padmé said. And while the power that Palpatine continued to accrue disturbed her, she supposed something good had come out of it. “I heard about your appointment. Congratulations.”_

_Anakin huffed. “I may be on the Jedi Council, but they refused to accept me as a Jedi Master.”_

_Padmé didn’t answer immediately. While she was more privy to the ways of the Jedi than most, she didn’t completely comprehend their hierarchy. She wasn’t sure that being on the Jedi Council automatically made someone a master or whether being a master was a prerequisite for being on their Council. Either way, for them not to make Anakin a master was obviously unprecedented. Anakin no doubt saw it as an insult, and Padmé guessed that was probably warranted._

_“Well, I think the fact that they accepted you onto the Council without being a master is an accomplishment on its own. It means they value your opinion as a knight. Even though you aren’t yet a master. It’s the same way on Naboo that we value the insight and fresh perspective of children and youth even though they lack life experience.” She rubbed his arm soothingly. “Just be patient. In time they’ll recognize your skills.”_

_Anakin didn’t seem placated. In fact, Padmé got the sense that his mood had worsened, though his expression and demeanor remained the same._

_“Sometimes, I wonder what's happening to the Jedi Order. I think this war is destroying the principles of the Republic.”_

_Padmé’s mind went back to the meeting with the other loyalists earlier. Their implications. That they would not take this erosion of their government sitting still. That they would not speak of it to anyone. Not even the Jedi. But maybe. Just maybe Anakin was thinking similarly to her._

_“Have you ever considered that we may be on the wrong side?” she asked tentatively._

_Predictably, Anakin was suspicious. She’d be worried if he wasn’t._

_“What do you mean?” he asked slowly._

_Here went nothing…_

_“What if the democracy we thought we were serving no longer exists,” Padmé blurted out quickly, “and the Republic has become the very evil we have been fighting to destroy?”_

_“I don't believe that. And you're sounding like a Separatist.”_

_“Anakin, this war represents a failure to listen.” Padmé hesitated. One of their rules was that they try not to bring their professional lives into their relationship. But these were unprecedented times. They had to talk about it. Because Padmé wasn’t sure what was going to happen anymore. And they had to be prepared._ She _had to be prepared._

_She continued, “Now, you're closer to the Chancellor than anyone. Please, please ask him to stop the fighting and let diplomacy resume.”_

_“Don't ask me to do that, Padme,” Anakin said as he stood. “Make a motion in the Senate, where that kind of a request belongs.”_

_Padmé should have left it alone. But it was becoming increasingly clear that there was no way to avoid talking about the war and its increasing politics. If she was going to break their agreement, she would try her best to get Anakin to see what was going on. The danger that they both might be in when this was all over. The danger she was going to put them in if the loyalists followed through with their plans._

_“We’ve tried,” Padmé pressed back. “He won’t listen to us. He doesn’t see how bad things have gotten. But—”_

_“Padmé, I don’t want to hear this.”_

_Padmé continued anyway. “But maybe he’ll listen to a plea from a friend who’s been directly impacted by all this. Maybe he—”_

_“Just stop. I’m not anyone’s errand boy,” Anakin snapped loudly._

_Padmé jumped. “Ani…”_

_“Just…”_

_Getting the feeling this had nothing to do with her, Padme reached out to grab his tightly fisted right hand, only for him to pull away._

_“Nothing. I have to go.”_

_“But—”_

_He was already gone, and Padmé instantly felt guilty for running him off. For running him away from the one place where he was supposed to be able to relax. To get away from all the pressures. But something kept nagging her that they couldn’t afford to do that. That if she did nothing, they’d all look back and wonder how they’d gotten to whatever future awaited them. Hindsight was 20/20, so the old saying in Basic went._

_Hindsight… Maybe there was enough of it to look back at the war, the Republic, the chancellor, and the Jedi to make sense of what was going on. Because there was something._

_Anakin’s accusation of her sounding like a Separatist came back to her. If she went through with this, it would be borderline treason. If not outright._

_Padmé shook the thought from her head. She’d been willing, if extremely reluctant, to go to war against the Trade Federation if needed to take back her planet. Despite criticism. Despite the Republic’s inaction to her call for aid. And she'd done it when she was a child. She wouldn’t sit back and let everything she’d worked for implode as an adult._

_Padmé stood to her feet. She’d apologize to Anakin when he returned. For now, she had work to do. First, get Sabé back on planet. She was going to need the help._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, at first, my idea for this universe was that the Temple bombing some way and somehow didn't happen. But then I realized I had a great opportunity to use Breha again.
> 
> Thank you for all the kudos, comments, and subscriptions. I appreciate it! Keep it coming.


	7. An Unseen Threat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, Ahsoka and Padmé get caught...

Without the local authorities' help, it meant they had to find other means of getting the information about Anakin’s crash landing. Particularly the exact coordinates of the crash. Both Ahsoka and Padmé stood out quite a bit on the planet, compared to the humanoid natives with their bright pastel and neon-colored hair with pale, almost translucent skin. But Padmé stood out just a little less, so they agreed to let her go into a local shop to buy a newspaper and ask a few questions. If fatalities because of their planet’s electric atmosphere and sky were so rare, surely one happening—one that the Jedi were interested in—would be the talk of the planet’s residents.

Though Ahsoka appeared calm, she couldn’t help but looking over her shoulder every once in a while as she waited for Padmé to come back. A habit carried over from the Clone Wars that served Ahsoka well when she’d constantly been in hostile territory but did little more than make her seem paranoid nowadays. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to break the habit.

Finally, Padmé made her way out the shop.

“So?” Ahsoka asked as Padmé climbed into the passenger seat.

“They thought I was just some nosy human adventurer. Apparently, they get a lot of those out this way. And in the interest of making sure we didn’t get lost or accidently get involved in something that we shouldn’t, he showed me the exact area we should avoid on this holomap I purchased,” Padmé said as she pulled up said map on her datapad. “Now, aren’t you glad you let me come along?”

“I never doubted your usefulness, Senator. That said, your company hasn’t been half bad,” Ahsoka said.

“I can say the same about you.”

The bright, genuine smile Padmé gave Ahsoka made her look much younger than she was. Or maybe it just made her look as young as she actually was. In the images Ahsoka had seen of her in the past, her heavy robes and elaborate hairstyles and wigs made her seem older and larger than life. The brief time she’d met her when she barged into her apartment four years ago, Padmé had been solemn, serious, and urgent while trying to convince her that the whole war was a conspiracy of Palpatine’s making and that the only thing in his way was the Jedi. It had never occurred to Ahsoka when she’d thought about the woman and didn’t comprehend exactly why Anakin liked her, that it might just be a part of a persona she put on. Not the real her. Ahsoka wouldn’t mind continuing to get to know this more genuine and less guarded Padmé. Seeing that pretty smile more often.

“You okay?”

Ahsoka blinked out her stupor and shook her head.

“It’s nothing,” she said quickly as she started to follow the directions to the coordinates on Padmé’s datapad.

They didn’t talk much along the way. Mostly focusing on making sure they were going in the right direction, especially once the road ended and they were left traversing the lush fields and thriving plant paradise of the planet. The distant electrical storms in the sky began to worsen the closer they came upon where Anakin’s wreckage was until finally, they came upon a clearing of the plains that was blocked off by temporary wired fences.

“This is it?” Ahsoka asked Padmé, stopping a fair distance away from the blocked off area so that no one would hear them coming if they were there.

“This is it,” Padmé confirmed with a glance at her map.

Ahsoka nodded, parked their speeder behind a large rock, and trekked the rest of the way on foot. Ahsoka paused outside the fence to make sure it wasn’t electric before gesturing for Padmé to follow behind her.

The ground was scorched black with debris and soot from the crash. Ahsoka followed that soot and debris to the blackened and charred remains of the ship. While one of its wings and wheels lay in the distance, the ship had remained mostly intact save for the way it was shorn apart right down the middle. And upon a cursory look at the ship and the ground around it, one thing was immediately clear to Ahsoka.

“This ship didn’t crash. Not like the local authorities said it did anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

Ahsoka climbed into the burnt remains of the ship with Padmé behind her.

“During the war, I was in my fair share of crash landings with Skyguy. This isn’t how this ship would have crashed if he’d been ejected while still in the atmosphere, and then the ship kept careening to the ground,” Ahsoka said as she walked back out the ship. She directed Padmé’s gaze to the ground. “See the pattern of the scorch marks?”

Padmé nodded.

“That’s the pattern of a controlled crash where the pilot was able to manage the speed of the descent,” Ahsoka said as she walked around the perimeter of the ship. “And look at these marks.” Padmé joined her on the other side of the ship. “Those are shooting burns—recent ones. Someone shot Anakin down. Whether that was in Suana’s atmosphere or he was being chased in space and made an emergency landing on the planet, I’m not sure.”

“What’s your gut say?” Padmé asked.

“That someone on Sauna has something to hide.”

“But what?”

“I don’t know.”

It could have been anything. But probably something to do with the remaining Separatists hiding out in the galaxy. Anakin had been leading the effort to snuff the hostile remnant for years now. It was possible this was an effort to get him out the way for good. Or maybe that rumor of a superweapon had been real.

“Stop where you are,” someone suddenly said.

Ahsoka spun around with Padmé, coming face to face with a group of Suana’s local security forces.

“Fuck,” Ahsoka muttered.

“You’re trespassing.”

“Oh? Were we? We were just exploring the countryside and came across this wreckage and wanted to make sure no one was hurt,” Ahsoka said with a shrug.

It was too much to hope they’d believe that, especially given the giant wire fence they’d disregarded. But Ahsoka hoped anyway. Wouldn’t be the most insane thing that had ever happened over the years.

Today was clearly not going to be one of those days.

“We’re going to have to ask you to come with us,” the officers said.

Ahsoka paused and exchanged a look with Padmé. It wasn’t like Ahsoka couldn’t get them out of this if she needed to. A mind trick might work, but that got a little difficult the more people were involved. Not to mention she wasn’t familiar with the Suana people and didn’t know if a mind trick would hold. She could fight their way out, but that would cause them more trouble and hinder their investigation. Getting arrested would do the same. But at least if they were arrested, she could just silently break them out overnight, and they could finish exploring the planet more or less unhindered.

Padmé seemed to have weighed the same options because before Ahsoka could reply, she had stepped forward to comply. The officers were already putting cuffs on her by the time Ahsoka did the same. They took Padmé’s blaster off her and both of Ahsoka’s lightsabers. They didn’t comment about the lightsaber. Either they didn’t recognize the weapon, or they did and hadn’t jumped to the conclusion that she was a Jedi. That made sense given that with so many Jedi having died after the war, it wasn’t as hard as it used to be to find a lightsaber in some of the more known black markets.

Once they’d been carted back into the city and put in a cell, Ahsoka waited for the guards to leave before saying to Padmé, “We’ll wait for night to fall. I’ll break us out, and then we’ll go from there.”

Padmé’s face was scrunched in concern. “How did they know we were out there?”

“I was wondering that too.”

She’d checked to make sure there were no signs of patrols or security around the site. There was no way they had been there, and she hadn’t noticed. It wasn’t like there had been many places for them to hide. “They must have been watching from somewhere else in the distance. I think wherever it is might have clues about what happened to Anakin after he crashed into that ship, who wanted him, and why? For now, let’s just sit tight until tonight. Then we’ll investigate more.”

There was only one bunk in the small cell that Ahsoka let Padmé have while she sat on the rickety chair in the room. She closed her eyes in a waking but restful meditation more than it was sleep while waiting for nightfall. The sun was just starting to set when she heard footsteps coming their way. Not out of the norm. On two occasions, guards had come in and out the halls. Once to put someone else in and once to let someone else out. What was out of the norm was the footsteps stopping right outside their cell door. A second after that realization, Ahsoka recognized one of the presences behind the door.

“Fuck,” Ahsoka groaned, hitting her head on the back of the cell.

“What?” Padmé asked.

Ahsoka guessed the woman hadn’t been as asleep as she thought. Before she could answer, the door opened to reveal a guard and Master Windu.

“You two can leave,” the guard said.

Frankly, Ahsoka wouldn’t have minded staying in the cell. But Padmé was already up and walking out. Ahsoka followed, avoiding Master Windu’s firm gaze. She was at least hoping to avoid the reprimand until _after_ she found Anakin.

Once Ahsoka and Padmé’s weapons and other belongings were returned, Master Windu nodded his head to the guard that processed their release and said, “I apologize for the misunderstanding. Thank you for assisting me with clearing it up.”

He didn’t wait for a response, only giving Ahsoka a brief disapproving glance before making his way outside.

“You’re screwed. Aren’t you?” Padmé asked quietly.

“Majorly,” Ahsoka said with a sigh as she followed Master Windu. Might as well get this over with.

He was waiting for them when Padmé and Ahsoka joined him, hand clasped neutrally behind his back.

“You were given a direct order not to go on this mission, Knight Tano,” he began.

Dreading it though she may be, Ahsoka wasn’t going to act like she was intimidated. So with her back straight, arms crossed, and expression neutral (she hoped), Ahsoka opened her mouth to defend herself, as in vain as it might be.

“It wasn’t her fault, Master Windu,” Padmé said, cutting in. Her voice had changed, going from the kind and familiar tone that she’d been using with Ahsoka to the tone Ahsoka heard when she saw her in the Senate. “I had an important meeting with Master Skywalker. When he missed it, I grew concerned and contacted Knight Tano since Master Skywalker has always spoken highly of her and I knew they were close. Since the Naboo have an invested interest in Master Skywalker, I headed up our own investigation into his disappearance. Knight Tano tried to talk me out of it, but I insisted, and she felt it was her duty as a Jedi not to let me go alone. It wasn’t my intention to get her into trouble.”

Ahsoka knew Master Windu would believe that as much as Ahsoka had believed it when Padmé first asked to come on this mission with her three days ago. The unimpressed look Master Windu gave them both revealed as much. But other than frowning in disapproval, he didn’t argue with Padmé’s explanation.

“I suppose given the circumstance, your insolence can be excused,” Master Windu said directly to Ahsoka. “And since you both managed to beat me here and investigate the site of Skywalker’s crash, it doesn’t make sense to send you back to Coruscant while I recover your ground. So tell me, what have you found?”

“Anakin survived the crash,” Ahsoka said immediately and then explained the same thing she explained to Padmé about the scorched ground. “But we didn’t have any more clues as to where he was until we were arrested. We think there’s some kind of surveillance base or something because there were no signs that the officers that arrested us were nearby.”

“You think this city may be in on Skywalker’s disappearance?” Master Windu asked.

“Possibly.”

Master Windu frowned at that. If Ahsoka had to take a guess, he didn’t like the lack of concreteness. But who knew? It was hard to ever get a read on him.

“It’s the only lead we have. If you’re sure, Knight Tano, we should investigate. Any idea where this watch facility might be?”

Before Ahsoka could answer that she hadn’t gotten that far yet, Padmé interjected yet again while inspecting her map and said, “I think I can help with that.”

* * *

**_Coruscant, 4 Days After The Battle of Coruscant_ **

_Ahsoka had not expected Anakin to come looking for her any time soon, but there he was, waiting for her. In her assigned padawan rooms that saw less and less use._

_“I’ve told you about showing up here without letting me know,” Ahsoka grumbled._

_“Why? Got a secret partner you bring here that you’re not telling me about?” he asked with his trademark smirk. The fake one that he gave to people who weren’t close to him. The one he used when he was hiding himself. Not the teasing one that usually might have accompanied that comment if he were in a better mood._

_“Was there something you needed,_ Master _?”_

_He visibly cringed. They usually avoided titles and formalities, at least seriously, when there was no one around. And frequently, it was hard to actually draw a line between when he was acting as her master and fighting partner or when he was being her romantic (ish) partner. Most of the time, it was a nebulous mix of the two. But after the way he’d acted a few days ago, she was firmly keeping him behind the line of being her Jedi master no matter how uncomfortable it made him. No matter how uncomfortable it made her. She would not let him off the hook for being an ass to her that easily._

_“Not really… Well. Yeah. But first, I just wanted to apologize to you.”_

_Ahsoka blocked him in the Force this time, keeping her face neutral._

_“I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.” He looked down at his feet and then back at her. “And I shouldn’t have made you leave. Especially not like I did anyway. I was just… There’s so much going on right now, and I didn’t want to hear what you had to say because it’s not what I wanted to hear right then. And that doesn’t make it okay. But I just… Sorry.”_

_Ahsoka stared at Anakin for a while. Guiltily looking at her, then looking away, and then repeating the process. An awkward hand fidgeting with his hair. And then, when he got tired of that, dropping it to his side to clench and unclench in anxiousness._

_Force, it was hard to stay angry at him when he was acting this earnest._

_“It’s okay,” she finally sighed._

_“It wasn’t.”_

_“I shouldn’t have pushed you. I could tell you didn’t want to talk about it.”_

_“I was still wrong. Really wrong,” Anakin added._

_Ahsoka’s lips twitched as she fought a smile. She might have forgiven him, but she still didn’t need to let him off this easy. Their relationship was already a series of complications, contradictions, and crossing boundaries that they never should have. Anakin was usually overly cautious and careful of those boundaries, but he’d crossed them a few days ago. Tipped the delicate balance of power they tried to maintain. And to tip it back, she should have at the very least held it over his head for a while so he’d remember not to try it again._

_He was awkwardly fidgeting again._

_Fuck it._

_She stopped fighting the smile and stopped blocking him across their bond, letting the Force take her remaining anger. The warmth that she got in return across the bond was worth it, along with the way he lightened up like some of the burden on his shoulders had been relieved._

_She crossed the room to stand in front of him and let him kiss her. Lips parting. Tongues clashing. A playful nip to the corner of a lip. Searing passion that Ahsoka had long grown used to, but never tired of, kindling inside her._

_They hadn’t had time to be together like this in a while. Intense, tiring missions. Sometimes separate missions now that she was a senior padawan and probably closer to knighting than she might have been at this point during peacetime. She’d joined him again just in time for him and Rex to finish the rescue mission to find Echo, went back to the sieges, and had been called back to fend off the Separatists from Coruscant, where she’d helped to provide ground support while he and Obi-wan rescued the chancellor. There just hadn’t been time for anything else besides the war. Maybe that was part of his issues lately. Her issues lately._

_So while she hadn’t forgotten about the visions that Anakin confided in her about or that one of these days they were going to have to talk about how they both resorted to sex as one of their coping mechanisms to avoid talking, today would not be that day._

_She thought._

_Anakin had fallen into a much-needed slumber. Ahsoka should wake him up._

_They both had things they needed to do. Training to get ready for her upcoming trials in a few months. Likely a meeting resulting from his new council appointment (Ahsoka still wasn’t sure how_ that _happened. Not that she didn’t think her master deserved it, but he was as close to hating the Council as a Jedi could safely get [She ignored the voice that whispered that she very well knew it was hate], and he was far from the type to want to join something to fix it). Meeting up with Rex to further look into those chips._

_Despite the time-consuming list, though, Ahsoka didn’t have the heart or energy to wake him. The war was always moving. Never waited. But today, Ahsoka would make it._

_She was disturbed from her post-coital haze when Anakin began to fidget behind her. Nothing out the ordinary. Sometimes close contact didn’t chase the nightmares away. As hard as it was to watch, for the most part, they’d both learned that it was better to let the other naturally get through it. There’d been enough accidental assaults on each other on both their parts coming out of nightmares to learn that._

_Anakin came out the dream by suddenly sitting up and nearly knocking Ahsoka out the bed they hardly fit in together anyway._

_“Nightmare,” Ahsoka stated knowingly._

_“Vision,” Anakin corrected absently._

_Ahsoka doubted he would have admitted that so readily if he were all the way back to himself._

_“Show it to me. Maybe I can help where Yoda couldn’t,” she suggested._

_Anakin shook his head. “I’m the master here. You should be depending on me. Not the other way around.”_

_Ahsoka gave him a wry look, and it got her point across so that she didn’t have to bluntly point out that they weren’t supposed to be having sex either. That even without the sex, they weren’t supposed to be as close as they were at all._

_“The teacher learns from the student just as much as the student learns from the teacher,” Ahsoka quoted._

_“Yeah. But not with this.”_

_“Well, neither of us is going to get any rest if you keep having that nightmare, so we might as well get this over with.”_

_“You’re not going to let this go. Are you?” Anakin sighed._

_Before Ahsoka could answer that, he leaned over and touched the sides of her head. She closed her eyes as she began to receive the images. A human woman with brown hair sticking to her sweaty forehead, skin pale, tears falling down the side of her face, the cries of a newborn, the dark, suffocating feeling of death in the air mingling with the light, airiness of new life. She cried out, “Ani. Please, help me.” A final cry. Obi-Wan’s voice, “Save your strength.” “I can’t…” Death._

_Ahsoka felt Anakin pull away from her as she opened her eyes to Anakin’s dejected expression as he leaned an arm on his propped up knee._

_“So. Any grand epiphanies?” he asked._

_“Why is she calling out for you?”_

_“What?”_

_“In the vision. You weren’t there. She was calling for you. Ani. That’s you. Right?”_

_“I… yes.”_

_“So maybe that’s what you need to figure out. Why would Obi-wan be able to be with her and not you? Maybe making sure you’re there would make the difference.”_

_“Maybe,” Anakin muttered._

_Ahsoka could tell he didn’t believe it._

_His comm beeped. Anakin glanced at it and sighed._

_“I have to go.”_

_“Where this late?”_

_“Chancellor. He wants me to join him at some ballet opera,” Anakin said with a roll of his eyes._

_Ahsoka scrunched up her face. That was definitely something that would bore Anakin to tears._

_“Tell him you’re busy.”_

_“I can’t.”_

_“Why not?”_

_“Because he’s the chancellor, Snips,” Anakin groaned as he got dressed. “Besides, he’s my friend. It won’t be so bad.”_

_The chancellor who had something to do with the chips in the clones’ heads. The chancellor who was covering up exactly what they were for. Ahsoka had to bite her tongue until he left to keep from saying anything about it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I am FIRMLY in the camp that Palpatine did not send Anakin his visions of Padmé's death in RotS. Palpatine was a master manipulator with words, but I don't think Anakin was so weak-minded when it came to the Force and shielding his mind that Palpatine cold manipulate him like that, and he wouldn't notice. Canonically, Force visions don't give the full picture. They're a warning of something but what is up for debate. I am in the camp that Anakin's visions of Padmé's death were a warning from the Force that if he continue down the dark path he was on, it was always inevitably lead to him losing her one way or another. Hence why he has the visions AFTER he kills Dooku. 
> 
> If it was her dying in childbirth, he wold have had the visions before she told him she was pregnant. The fact that it was after she told him was just a coincidence. Thus if Anakin had meditated on the visions a little more (he hates that) or actually gotten some real help (but he also wasn't ready to expose his marriage and his relationship with Obi-wan was complicated to say the least), he could have figured out what the visions were trying to warn him of or that in order to avoid the visions, he needed to make sure that nothing got in the way of him being there for Padmé.
> 
> As for how Palpatine knew what to offer Anakin? Well, he's a master manipulator. He'd been close to Anakin and knew the thing Anakin wanted most was to protect the people he loved, particularly Padmé. So he figured out Anakin's fears, told him the story of Plagueis, and hooked Anakin. I don't think Palpatine specifically knew it was specifically Padmé that Anakin was scared for until Anakin outright admitted it when he pledged himself to him, though he probably suspected.
> 
> So that is my manifesto on Anakin's RotS visions. Thank you for all the kudos, comments, and subscriptions. I appreciate it! Keep it coming.


	8. A Lead in the Right Direction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Padmé helps find a lead...

One thing Padmé had to overcome and sometimes still had to overcome in the Senate was the tendency for people to think that she was all pretty words and naïve optimism. A young girl and former ruler from a peaceful, almost backwater planet that knew nothing of the way the galaxy worked. And in some ways, they were correct. It had taken a while for her to be able to temper her youthful, optimistic idealism with the realities of the galaxy. To find a balance between operating in and treating the galaxy in the way it should work versus how it did. Anakin had helped her significantly with that over the course of their marriage. Broadening her sheltered perceptions by telling her all the people he’d seen and met from dozens of different worlds over the years. But just because she’d been admittedly sheltered didn’t mean that she was stupid. That she hadn’t been thoroughly educated. And one of the things she’d been educated on was terrain and geography.

It had been necessary for her to learn the different ways ground and dirt shifted and settled to help regulate Naboo’s Plasma mines and industries. So when she and Ahsoka found the site of Anakin’s crash and Padmé matched up the place with coordinates on the map, she’d immediately noticed something strange about the terrain and ground. Particularly how for all the lush plant life, organic life seemed to steer clear of the area. Organic and exotic wildlife should have been thriving in such a terrain. And Padmé immediately wondered what unseen thing was keeping them away.

“Good call,” Master Windu said once Padmé was finished explaining, using the ship Ahsoka borrowed as a temporary base.

“You’re right,” Ahsoka agreed. “I was so focused on making sure no sentient beings were around and the crash that I didn’t pay attention to it. The question is, what is it that they’re mining?”

“I did some research on their electricity storms. Electricity storms aren’t altogether rare in the galaxy in some form or another. Naboo has a terrible thunder and lightning storm season during the hotter months of the year. But Suana’s are different. They carry a lot more energy in them. The Suana have learned to limitedly harness it, but only a mere fraction of the power that it can produce.”

“So, if someone could harness all of it, would it be enough to power a theoretical superweapon?” Ahsoka asked.

“That,” Master Windu began, “was supposed to be highly classified information. Council-only.”

The look Windu was giving Ahsoka looked more long-sufferingly resigned than stern. Like the Council had long grudgingly accepted that Council-only information meant the Council and probably Ahsoka because Anakin told her.

Ahsoka shrugged, appearing unbothered by the reprimand.

“If there was a superweapon,” Padmé said, “it wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility that Suana’s electric atmosphere could power it.”

“If you had to take a guess, where do you think we’d find the base?” Ahsoka asked.

“Based on the terrain of the planet, I’d say here,” Padmé said, pointing to a spot some kilometers away from where they’d found Anakin’s ship.

“Then that’s where Knight Tano and I will start. Senator, I’m going to have to ask that you stay behind,” Master Windu said.

“And you’ve asked,” Padmé replied.

Ahsoka snickered and then said, “It’s no use, Master. She’s going to come anyway. May as well take her along.”

“You learn quickly,” Padmé teased.

Master Windu frowned at them both but didn’t argue. Neither Padmé nor Ahsoka felt comfortable enough to speak as openly as they had been before Master Windu had joined them, and Master Windu didn’t seem inclined to engage them in conversation. Thus, they sat silently as they traveled to where Padmé was sure there was some kind of facility or factory. It took some driving around and searching the area, but eventually, Ahsoka’s montrals picked up some kind of dull vibrating. They followed the direction of the vibrating until they came upon the edge of a sharp cliffside where a large facility in the valley below was bustling with activity. Workers loading up shuttles. Those shuttles leaving the atmosphere.

“Looks like they’re in a rush,” Ahsoka observed.

“They were likely notified of our arrival,” Master Windu stated. “Do you sense him there?”

Padmé understood that the last part was directed at Ahsoka, but it took her a while to comprehend why. Ahsoka had a bond with Anakin. Like the one Anakin had with the twins.

Ahsoka shook her head. “If he were, I would have known it as soon as we dropped out of hyperspace.”

“Even if they found a way to restrain his access to the Force?”

Anakin had never mentioned such a thing to Padmé. But the finders that came to talk to her about allowing the twins to be taken to the temple suggested the possibility of such a measure in the future. If the twins’ powers grew beyond their control without training. The last scare tactic they’d used before she tossed them out.

“That’s really possible?” Padmé asked.

Master Windu gave Padmé an appraising glance.

“The technology is exceedingly rare,” he replied. “Most resort to shock cuffs and collars to restrain Force users. But it wouldn’t be impossible for any Separatists remnant to have it. If we assume they’re behind this facility and Skywalker’s disappearance.” He turned back to Ahsoka. “So?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never had to try.”

“Then it’s possible, if Skywalker was captured, he’s in that facility. And if not, we may be able to gather clues about what really happened here and where he was taken,” Windu said. He gave Ahsoka that firm look again. “Don’t do anything to attract attention.”

“Hey! It’s Skyguy who goes everywhere and causes explosions.”

Master Windu ignored her.

It was easier than Padmé expected to get into the facility. But all the personnel were too busy with the evacuation to pay too close attention. To do any double-takes if they saw any suspicious shadows. Eventually, it became clear that there was too much ground for them to cover as a group, so Master Windu went in one direction while Padmé and Ahsoka went in another. But not without one more warning look to which Ahsoka very blatantly rolled her eyes.

“You forget, Knight Tano,” Master Windu said, “I was frequently the one who had to deal with the aftermath of the rebellions you led as a youngling.”

They went their separate ways after that, but not before Padmé caught the flush of Ahsoka’s lekku. The togruta equivalent of blushing, Padmé guessed.

“You led a rebellion? As a youngling?” Padmé asked.

Ahsoka made a noncommittal noise before saying, “It wasn’t my fault their rules were stupid.”

“I’ve got to hear this story,” Padmé insisted.

“You won’t ever hear it from my lips. And good luck getting it out of Master Windu.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“Not bad,” Ahsoka admitted. “Just… Let’s just say that getting on the bad side of people with more power than me didn’t start with the Senate.”

Padmé couldn’t imagine how a youngling would ever get on the bad side of someone with more power than her when she grew up in the Jedi Temple. But she supposed the Jedi Order wasn’t much different from any other collective body working toward a similar goal. People that were easy to like. People that were easy to dislike. People that as soon as they walked into the room, you had to resist letting out a deep sigh while praying to the gods for patience. Whoever it was, Padmé imagined Ahsoka had been as much of a persistent thorn in their side as she was when she was meeting with Senators for the Clone Relief Initiative.

Whether it be Senators affronted by her apparent unwillingness to hold her tongue; annoyed or impressed by her persistence; grudgingly won over by her kindness and patience; admired because of her friendliness or caring or intelligence. Ahsoka had much more of a reputation and gained a lot more sympathy and friendship in the Senate than she thought. There was even one glorious occasion that Padmé got from the mouth of Bail himself. Of a meeting that involved Ahsoka, Orn Free Taa, and the senators that worked on the Clone Relief Initiative Committee a few years ago where Ahsoka lost her temper and outright insulted the Senator from Ryloth. The ensuing shouting match—filled with bold accusations from the, at the time, teenaged Jedi Knight that most Senators would never openly speak—was among legend in the Senate. It had helped Ahsoka’s popularity and gained her more friendships more than anything. But the togruta woman and Orn Free Taa hadn’t been in the same room since.

Ahsoka was spirited, that was for sure. The Senate needed more of that if anyone asked Padmé. More of how Padmé had been when she first got to the Senate. Hopefully, Ahsoka didn’t lose that spirit or become weary. She wouldn’t if Padmé had anything to do with it. And the Senate could think whatever they wanted of her.

“You okay?” Ahsoka asked.

Padmé realized at some point that she’d stopped.

“I…” Padmé cleared her throat and shook her head. “Fine. Just thought I heard something.”

They had to duck less security and personnel the further they went until the halls were all but empty. And so were the rooms they checked along the way.

“Looks like they’ve already evacuated this area,” Ahsoka guessed. “There’s probably nothing here. We should—”

Padmé looked at Ahsoka. She’d both stopped walking and talking. Then Ahsoka entered another room. Padmé followed.

This room, too, was empty, but Ahsoka had her eyes closed as she slowly paced the room. It took a moment for Padmé to realize this was probably a Force thing.

Finally, Padmé asked, “What?”

“He was here.”

“Anakin?”

Of course, it was Anakin, Padmé thought belatedly. Who else?

“Yes. He…” A pause. “He was pissed off. Annoyed… scared,” Ahsoka added in a whisper. “But not for himself.”

Of course, he wasn’t afraid for himself.

“Sounds like Ani. How long ago?”

“Recent. Not even a day ago. We just missed him,” Ahsoka said in a mostly even tone, but Padmé caught the hint of disappointment.

“Well, at least we know you were right. He’s not dead.”

“For now,” Ahsoka muttered.

Padmé’s heart tightened. “What do you mean for now?”

“I think he got hurt pretty bad in that crash.”

“Wouldn’t be the first close call he’s had.”

“Not by himself. Not without backup.”

Padmé didn’t know whether she was relieved that she didn’t have powers in the Force like Ahsoka did or whether she was jealous. Relieved because she was spared the burden of being able to so acutely feel whatever it was Ahsoka could that made her worry for Anakin’s wellbeing. Padmé was already worried enough. She couldn’t imagine being able to feel the residual of Anakin’s pain and frustration at the situation. Even without the Force, sometimes it felt like Anakin’s emotions could weigh down the air in a room. On the other hand, though, Padmé wished she could feel him that way. To connect with him in the Force the way he did with the twins. The way he did with Ahsoka. To know the comfort of his presence in something that transcended the physical. Even if it meant having to suffer through the dreadful knowledge of sensing something go wrong.

“Come on,” Ahsoka said, shaking herself out her melancholy. “Let’s meet back up with Master Windu.”

They managed to get out the facility without tripping any alarms or security and met back up with Master Windu at the top of the same cliff they’d first spied the factory earlier.

“He was here,” Ahsoka said immediately after they’d trudged back to their speeder and were on their way back to town. “They moved him. But he was here.”

“I gathered as much,” Master Windu admitted. “I was able to find a control room. Two prisoner transports left here less than a day ago. One headed to Geonosis—”

“Why is it that the Republic can’t keep that planet under watch?” Ahsoka asked.

Padmé had to agree with her. They’d had to fight over it _twice_ times during the Clone War.

“Another headed to Mustafar,” Master Windu continued. “Though I still don’t condone you acting against the orders of the Council, I suppose your presence is fortunate if we want to find Skywalker before they move him further out our reach. You’ve been to Mustafar before? During your apprenticeship to Skywalker?”

Ahsoka nodded.

“Good. You and the Senator will go to Mustafar. I’ll go to Geonosis,” Master Windu ordered.

“And if we find Ana—Master Skywalker?” Padmé asked.

“If I thought there was a chance that you wouldn’t disobey the order anyway, I’d tell you to wait for backup to arrive before you act. As it is, if you find him, make sure to comm for reinforcements before you make your rescue attempt. It’s very possible that we’ll find the remaining separatist leaders that have been in hiding these last few years. Seeing as this has been Skywalker’s mission the past few years, I’m sure he wouldn’t want you to squander the opportunity.” He directed toward Padmé, “With all due respect, Senator, I’d prefer you stayed in the safety of the ship while Knight Tano investigates whatever you may find. The last thing any of us want is having to explain to the Senate how a Senator got wrapped up in Jedi business should anything happen to you.”

Padmé smiled. “Your preference is duly noted.”

* * *

**_Coruscant, 6 Days After The Battle of Coruscant_ **

_While Sabé looked over all the information Padmé managed to put together over the past few days, she bit on the fingernail of her thumb in anxiousness. An awful habit that Padmé had been forced to bring under control when she became queen, but that had a way of creeping up on her when she was around people she was familiar with. Her normal reserves of patience nearly depleted and already overwhelmed by her anxiety, Padmé decided Sabé was taking too long._

_“So?” she asked, practically demanded._

_Sabé pursed her lips as she looked at the holo collage from the safety and privacy of Padmé’s home office._

_“This… it’s a lot.”_

_“You don’t believe me?”_

_“It’s not that I don’t believe you. It’s just that a lot of it can be explained away, milady,” Sabé said._

_“Exactly. That’s the point. It’s all too perfect—all too neat. Too many coincidences to not be a pattern. And it goes all the way back to when I was queen of Naboo. It was at Palpatine’s urging that I moved for a vote of no confidence, even though he’d told me Naboo might have to submit to being occupied. And then he went and got himself voted to be Chancellor. He was the only one that got anything out of me going to Coruscant to plea for help for Naboo. Naboo certainly never got anything out of it. We ended up taking the planet back ourselves. Without the Republic.”_

_“That’s true. But Palpatine’s a politician. A savvy one. Anyone would have taken advantage of the sympathy you did gain in the Senate. Of course, the Senate voted for him to make themselves feel better for turning Naboo away,” Sabé said._

_“That’s true. But then, seven and a half years later, what happens? Just as his second chancellorship term is about to come to an end, the Separatist Crisis starts to come to head, and thousands of planets start to leave the Republic.”_

_“But even you understood that it was a risky move to vote in new leadership while systems were leaving left and right at the risk of voting someone in that would be part of the Separatist cause.”_

_“I said I understood the apprehension. Not that I agreed with it. And whether I agree with it isn’t the point. Then two years later, it’s while I’m off-planet that he gains emergency powers by manipulating Jar Jar using my name. Bail told me he did,” Padmé said as she joined Sabé in front of her holo collage. “Powers he used to authorize the formation of a military just in time to activate a clone army that we still aren’t sure who exactly purchased, why it was purchased, and how it was paid for. An army that was first ordered ten years before the war, right around the time Palpatine gained the office of chancellor.”_

_“Padmé.”_

_“He’s refused to reach out for a possible diplomatic solution to all this in the name of not legitimizing the Separatist when the same argument can be made about going to war with them in the first place. I had a deal with Mina Bonteri, and just as we were about to vote on it, there was a bombing on Coruscant. And it’s not the only deal he’s been reluctant about that’s conveniently fallen through. Not to mention the Separatists just lost their chief leader and strategist. He’s not even talking about opening the door to negotiate. Now he’s got control of the courts and the Jedi. Sabé, every single Republic Crisis before and during the war, Palpatine has somehow benefitted from. Even when everyone else has suffered.”_

_“So let me get this straight,” Sabé began deliberately. “_ You _are accusing the current sitting chancellor of the Republic of a decade long plot to manufacture a crisis to usurp the power of every possible balance and check against him by manipulating the fear of the public to create an absolute dictatorship?”_

_“Not just an absolute dictatorship. A military one. That’s why he’s been doing so much to expand it. He says he created the governorships to better secure the galaxy from the Separatists and enforce Republic law. But really, he needs the governorships to enforce his absolute rule in case the systems rebel against him once he makes his final move. Whenever that is.” Padmé added. Then, “He’s been building an empire. Right under everyone’s noses.” Upon seeing Sabé’s skeptical look, she frowned and said firmly, “I’m not crazy, Sabé.”_

_“I don’t think you are. But what I do think is for every argument you have, someone will come back and say you’re overreacting. That this is all just circumstantial evidence. If that. The ramblings of a stressed, apparently single, pregnant Senator, seeing the Republic crumble around her and blaming the one person that the public believes has held it all together,” Sabé warned. “They could ask you to be removed from the Senate at best. Accuse you of treason at worst. Even if this is true, all it would do is let Palpatine know you’re on to him so he can find a way to twist all this in his favor.”_

_“I know,” Padmé snapped as she began to pace. A habit she picked up from Anakin. Never mind that it shouldn’t be treason in a fucking_ democracy _to criticize and point out the suspicious behavior of your leader. “I know I’m missing something. One thing. One piece of information. The smoking blaster that will prove Palpatine’s doing something. But I just… I can’t find it.”_

_Sabé stood in front of Padmé to stop her pacing._

_“Padmé, how long have you been working on this?”_

_Padmé shrugged. “All day yesterday and the night before. I tried to work on it some today, but I had a meeting with the loyalist committee.”_

_“Have you slept?”_

_“A couple of hours the last two nights. The baby keeps me up anyway.”_

_“Have you eaten?”_

_“A little.”_

_Sabé sighed. “Okay. If there’s anything else to find, anything that you’ve overlooked, I’ll try to find it. But you need to take a break.”_

_“But I—”_

_“Padmé. Take. A. Break.” Sabé added more soothingly, “Besides, you forget the galaxy has the Jedi. They’d never stand by and allow something like this.”_

_Padmé knew that, but something still urged her on. Something still urged her to press this matter before it was too late. Because it almost was too late. Like they were on the brink of_ something _any day now._

_Still, Padmé sighed and left Sabé to continue her diligent work._

_And found Anakin sitting hunched over on the couch on her way to the kitchen._

_“Obi-wan’s been here. Hasn’t he?” Anakin asked immediately._

_“He came by this morning,” Padmé replied._

_“What did he want?”_

_“He’s worried about you. He says you’re under a lot of stress.”_

_And Padmé had been so glad, so relieved that she wasn’t the only one that had noticed. Wasn’t the only one that was worried about the strain that this war was putting on Anakin. This war that Padmé was sure Palpatine was using to gain power. At that moment, she’d nearly taken Obi-wan to her office to show him everything. To show him her suspicions about Palpatine and what he was doing. Because the Jedi were the only ones in his way. The Jedi needed to know what else they were up against. Padmé needed a Jedi’s help for this, a feeling urged her._

_But as she’d opened her mouth to reveal everything, a more urgent feeling made her pause. And clear as day, she heard a voice in her mind._

Not this Jedi, Padmé.

_And as much as it had frustrated her, Padmé followed her gut and said nothing._

_“I feel… lost.”_

_“Why?”_

_“Obi-wan and the Council… they don’t trust me.”_

_A few days ago, before all her investigating, Padmé might have tried to reassure him that they trusted him with their lives. There had to be some level of trust there if they repeatedly sent him on the worst and most dangerous missions, far out her grasp. Trusting him to win the most impossible situations. She knew they had kept things from him—the debacle with Obi-wan faking his death being one of them. But there had been some reasoning for it. Cruel as it had been._

_However, she’d spent the last few days questioning everything. Questioning things she should have been questioning long ago. And she couldn’t quite get out that mode._

_“What makes you think that?”_

_“Something's happening. I'm not the Jedi I should be. I want more, and I know I shouldn't,” he said, standing in frustration._

_“You expect too much of yourself,” Padmé replied, putting a hand on his arm. She wouldn’t point out that he’d dodged her question. The last thing he needed was to face pressure from her right now. She shouldn’t have pushed him as far as she did days ago._

_“I found a way to save you.”_

_“Save me?”_

_“From my nightmares.”_

_“Is that what’s bothering you?”_

_Anakin hadn’t said anything about his dreams for the last few days. Padmé thought they had passed. That he had just worked himself into such an anxious mess, the dreams manifested his fears. That with his focus on the Jedi and the Council, the dreams had gone away._

_“I won't lose you, Padmé.”_

_“I'm not going to die in childbirth, Ani. I promise you,” Padmé began reassuringly. She opened her mouth to say more, but Anakin cut her off._

_“No, I promise you.”_

_That urgent feeling that drove her to research everything she could about Palpatine returned to her. And it occurred to her that perhaps she should show it to Anakin. Perhaps it would convince him to plea with his friend. If only to help him take his mind off these nightmares. The voice from earlier returned._

Not this Jedi either.

_Padmé remained frustratingly silent._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my gripes with Star Wars as a franchise is that they have consistently done absolutely nothing with Padmé's character. They never give her anything to do in RotS. She's literally a plot device who can easily be replaced with any random woman and still have Luke and Leia come to being. Canonically, she was a little Force Sensitive as a result of being pregnant with Luke and Leia and it would have fit perfectly in the movie to have her on the other side investigating Palpatine, but not being able to find the smoking gun that would cement her suspicions, of being too late by the time she learned what was going on would add to the tragedy of the whole damn thing. But let me stop rambling.
> 
> Also, I absolutely imagine Padmé with a whole wall of conspiracy clips with red strings and connecting shit together except on holo.
> 
> Thank you for all the kudos, comments, and subscriptions. I appreciate it! Keep it coming.


	9. A Tenuous Connection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ahsoka expands Padmé's world...

“Can I ask you a question? Another Force question that is,” Padmé asked after they’d jumped into hyperspace, heading to Mustafar.

If Ahsoka were completely honest with herself, she should do something like meditate to recenter herself in the Force. What she’d sensed back at that facility on Suana had shaken her more than she was willing to admit even to herself. But also… she really didn’t feel like confronting those emotions right now. So she’d answer whatever Padmé wanted about anything if it meant having a distraction.

“What about it?”

“What’s it like? Being connected to the Force?”

Ahsoka hadn’t been expecting that one. No one had ever asked her that question before. She grew up around other Jedi. And when she began to travel the galaxy and interact with people that weren’t, they hadn’t had any curiosity about it beyond what having someone with that power on their side could do for them. But she supposed it made sense coming from Padmé. She was in the very unique position of not being Force-sensitive but living around and associating with many of them.

“Everyone is connected to the Force,” Ahsoka replied after a moment of thought. “The only difference between someone like me and someone like you is that we’re granted an acute awareness of that connection. If you’re asking me what that awareness is like… it’s really hard to explain. I’ve never not had it. I… um, I guess the best way to describe it is this constant hum or background noise in the universe.” Ahsoka paused. “Like the noise on Coruscant. There, but you get used to it, so you mostly kind of tune it out unless you really focus on it. Depending on what’s happening, that background noise can change. Sometimes, something totally out of the norm happens, and you know you need to pay attention or something has gone wrong. Kind of like if a speeder accident happened directly outside your office window.”

“Oh,” Padmé replied. “I… I think I get it. Does it feel the same way being connected to someone in the Force? Like you are to Ani? That background noise until it’s not?”

“Sort of. That’s a little different. It’s like… It’s like being in someone’s gravitational pull. You could probably get out of it, but it’s hard. And Skyguy is a lot more powerful than most people. So sometimes it feels like crashing. Or a black hole. At least what I imagine a black hole would be,” Ahsoka joked.

“Sounds… nice? I think. I’m not sure crashing or being pulled into a black hole is nice.”

“Maybe that was a bad comparison…”

“No. No, I get it. It’s the thrill that comes with it. The euphoria. Like a high or something? Right? That’s the nice part.”

“Yeah. That.”

“I wish I could feel that. Not just with Anakin. But with Luke and Leia too. Sometimes I look at them with Ani, and I feel like they’re part of an entirely different world that I’m not privy to. And—you may think this is silly—but I’ve always been afraid to ask Anakin about it. I didn’t want him to feel like I was insecure about it. And… maybe that’s because I am.”

Ahsoka had heard those words almost verbatim before. Right out her own mouth. A few years ago. She and Padmé had a lot more in common than she would have ever thought before five days ago.

“Well, can’t say I know how to make you stop feeling that way, Senator,” Ahsoka admitted. “But I can give you just a taste of what it’s like. To feel the Force. If you want.”

“You can do that?”

“Yeah. And I mean to feel how it feels to someone who’s Force-sensitive. Like I said. We’re all connected to it. There are whole orders of people who aren’t Force-sensitive but dedicate their lives to opening themselves up to that connection as limitedly as they can. You might have felt it before too. Ever had a feeling that you just couldn’t shake. With no explanation to why you had it. A feeling that made just made you act? Or that you didn’t act on and wished you had?” Ahsoka asked.

“I… yes.”

Ahsoka nodded. “This is going to feel like that a hundredfold.”

Ahsoka directed Padmé to sit in front of her. When she did, Ahsoka reached her hands out to touch Padmé’s forehead but paused to ask, “Is this okay? I don’t have to touch you, but it makes things easier.”

Padmé nodded, giving one of those genuine smiles as an assurance.

Ahsoka gently placed her hand on the sides of Padmé’s head. Right at her temples. Padmé reflexively closed her eyes before Ahsoka had to tell her to. Once Ahsoka was sure Padmé was relaxed, she closed her own eyes and opened herself fully to the Force. Even after a lifetime of being aware of her sensitivity to the Force, opening herself up to it like this never got old. It was no wonder that being forcefully cut off from it could be such a devastating handicap, Ahsoka had heard from stories of those who had been. It was probably like losing a limb.

After making sure she was centered, Ahsoka looked for Padmé in the Force. It was challenging, being that the woman wasn’t Force-sensitive. And though everyone was theoretically connected to the Force, those without a sensitivity to it looked comparatively dull or could even just blend in with the Force and make them almost impossible to spot. But the fact that Padmé was right in front of Ahsoka and Ahsoka was physically touching her helped. Once Ahsoka found her, Ahsoka extended herself toward her, wrapping herself in Padmé’s life Force and making a very tenuous connection. A connection that would break once Ahsoka stopped focusing, but that would allow Padmé to temporarily feel the Force the way she did.

Ahsoka was aware of the exact moment Padmé felt it. There was fear first at the world suddenly being so much louder and brighter. Ahsoka sent waves of calm and serenity to help. Then there was wonder. Awe. And Padmé wasn’t the only one. Because Ahsoka was able to really see what Padmé looked like temporarily illuminated in the Force like this. Not a shining beacon in the Force like Anakin. Or even as bright as any other Jedi. But a beautiful swirl of colors to look upon.

Eventually, Ahsoka could no longer hold the connection. So she let it dissipate rather than trying to force it to remain and retreated back into herself and put her shields back in place.

Padmé’s eyes were already open in awe by the time Ahsoka opened her own and pulled back. A bright grin was on the human woman’s face.

“That was amazing!” she exclaimed.

And now Ahsoka understood _exactly_ why Anakin was so enamored with this woman who, by some standards, would be seen as relatively plain and ordinary.

So much for taking things slow and not worrying about other things…

Realizing she’d gotten distracted, Ahsoka focused back on Padmé. What she was saying anyway. And now the woman was frowning.

“What?” Ahsoka asked. “Was it too much? Do you feel okay?”

Padmé shook her head. “I’m fine. I just… I’ve felt that before. Not as strongly, but something like it. More than a gut feeling, though. Like all was suddenly right with the world and made sense.”

“When?”

“When I was pregnant. With the twins. I had a lot of feelings when I was pregnant with them. They made me look further into Palpatine. But the one that felt like this. It was…”

Ahsoka blinked as the Padmé trailed off and blushed prettily. Similarly to how the woman had back on Suana when they were checking out that base.

Finally, Padmé continued, “It was when you ran into my apartment all those years ago.”

It took Ahsoka half a second to understand why Padmé was so flustered.

“I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable,” Padmé gazing at her lap. “I know I said no pressure. That we could go slow and figure things out in our own time. And it’s only been a couple of days, but…” Padmé looked back up at her with a sheepish smile. “I suppose it wouldn’t be the first time I started to like someone like this so fast.”

It would be for Ahsoka. Or maybe it wouldn’t be. Padmé had been in her peripheral for years now. This was probably the time where they took the opportunity to talk about this. What it might mean. What it _could_ mean. If they wanted. But Ahsoka would always prefer action to words.

“Ahso—”

Ahsoka pressed her lips against Padmé’s open mouth to cut her off. Soft, plump lips that were as warm as the smiles the woman made with them. Padmé didn’t return the kiss at first. But she didn’t move away either. And Ahsoka didn’t sense any repulsion from her. Even still, Ahsoka stopped without pulling away. Waiting expectantly for Padmé to do anything.

Then Padmé’s lips parted slightly, and she pressed her lips harder against Ahsoka’s. Ahsoka opened her mouth some too. Hand finding the back of Padmé’s head and tangling in the long, elaborate braid of her hair. Of which she had much more than Anakin. And Ahsoka was sure she was going to have fun with that in the future.

Padmé seemed not to know exactly what to do with her hands, so Ahsoka helped her by putting one hand on her thigh and the other on one of lekku, urging her to run her hand up and down it. Then Ahsoka placed her hand on the woman’s stomach, running her hand up to the middle of her breasts and then reaching back down. Appreciating her softness. Especially so when Ahsoka lived in a world that seemed overly hard and harsh and tested the limits of her comfort zone.

Ahsoka opened her mouth wider, urging Padmé to do the same, and a soft whine came from the other woman. Vibrating through Ahsoka’s own mouth and the rest of her body and settling hot in her stomach.

Ahsoka pulled just away slightly to lick the outline of the woman’s lips, to carefully bring both lips between her own and suck. Padmé’s hand tightened on her thigh, and assuming the woman liked what she had done, Ahsoka let go of her lips and repeated the motion.

“Ahsoka,” Padmé breathed. And wasn’t the sound of Ahsoka’s name coming from her like that so sweet?

Padmé moved in for another kiss, more intense, more demanding, less timid than before, and Ahsoka’s stomach leapt in anticipation of more as the woman’s hand went further up her thigh. Tugged on the lek she had been caressing.

Ahsoka reached for the hem of Padmé’s pants and lifted her shirt from them, hands finding the smooth skin she sought.

“Ahsoka,” Padmé managed, pulling away slightly before coming back in to kiss her again. “Hold on.”

Ahsoka pulled away this time. “What?” she heaved.

“I… Are you sure about this?” Padmé asked. “Maybe we should talk about this first?”

“What’s there to talk about, Senator?” Ahsoka teased, though she very well knew what.

“Well… um.”

For a woman that was usually so put together and always had the words to say, Ahsoka found it fascinating for her to be otherwise.

Padmé managed to collect herself before saying, “I don’t want you to feel like this is something you want because this is what Ani wants.”

“There’s nothing I’ve ever done that I didn’t want to do or hadn’t talked myself into anyway. Even when Anakin wanted me too.”

Padmé arched a brow and asked, “And how did that work out when he was your teacher, and you were his student, and you ended up together?”

“Took some creating boundaries. Figuring out when he was acting as my master and when he wasn’t,” Ahsoka admitted. “But he’s not my master anymore. This has nothing to do with him. I mean, he’ll be thrilled if a little disappointed he didn’t get to play matchmaker more. But that’s secondary. What about you?”

“It’s not. I mean…” Padmé’s cheeks turned pink again.

“Wait. Have you never had another partner before?” Ahsoka asked, suddenly realizing where the woman’s apprehension stemmed from.

“No. I could have. Our agreement was more for Anakin, but it went both ways. I was just… sort of always in a relationship with my work and never interested in anyone else.”

“Oh?”

“What about you?”

“I’ve had a handful. But never anything super serious outside of Anakin. So Anakin’s the only one that you’ve ever been with, huh?” Padmé flushed even further. Ahsoka grinned, flashing a canine playfully at the woman. “Oh, you and I are going to have fun.” Ahsoka ran her hand further up Padmé’s shirt. “If you’re up to it.”

Padmé managed to roll her eyes. “You’re incorrigible. Just like Anakin. No wonder you two—”

Ahsoka kissed her again, and any protest was forgotten as the other woman folded into her arms.

* * *

**_Coruscant, 7 Days After The Battle of Coruscant_ **

_“Palpatine’s the Sith Lord.”_

_Ahsoka sputtered at Anakin’s revelation over the holo. Her thoughts a jumbled, tangled mess of implications and questions that took her a few seconds to sort out. Even when she did somewhat sort it out and her brain stopped short-circuiting, all Ahsoka was able to manage was, “What?”_

_“Palpatine. He’s the Sith Lord.”_

_“I heard you the first time. Just… What?”_

_It’s not like Ahsoka hadn’t thought Palpatine was up to something. Hiding something that could be hindering the war effort. If she’d thought he was the shining beacon of goodness that Anakin thought he was, she wouldn’t have begun investigating the clones and the chips in their heads herself. But this… this was worse than anything she could have ever fathomed._

_Ahsoka took a breath and began to compartmentalize. Deal with the implications of that revelation later. Right now. Deal with the chancellor being Sith Lord._

_“How did you find that out?”_

_“Because he told me.”_

_“Why would he—” Ahsoka shook her head. That was a question to ask later too. Who knew how the mind of a Sith Lord worked? Treat this like any other development that came up during a mission. “Okay. What do you need me to do?”_

_Because he’d come to her about for a reason._

_“I…” He let go of the steering with one hand to run a hand through his hair in frustration. “I don’t know. I… I need to tell Master Windu. I should have comm’d him first. I don’t know…”_

_He took a deep breath. Ahsoka didn’t think it was possible to be more concerned, but she was. Because anything that disturbed the cool façade that Anakin usually wore in the face of trouble and adversity meant they had a serious catastrophe at hand._

_Finally, he said, “I’m on the way back to the temple. I’m going to tell Master Windu what I discovered.” He paused. “I—Padmé. He said—"_

_“Did he threaten her?”_

_“I-I don’t know. He knew something. I didn’t tell… I know this is going to be weird. But can you…?”_

_“Right. On the way,” Ahsoka said about to click off the comm._

_“Wait! You don’t even know where Padmé lives. Or who she is.”_

_“Senator Amidala lives at 500 Republica? The Naboo rent out an apartment for her, right? It’s in the public directory.”_

_Anakin sputtered. “Wait. How did you—When did you find out…?”_

_“Master, we’ve been over this. You don’t have many secrets about yourself that I haven’t already mostly figured out.”_

_“But really. How?”_

_“You told me that you and Senator Amidala like to keep your professional lives separate from your friendship. You said the same thing when you told me you had another partner. You’ve never said that about anyone else,” Ahsoka replied._

_“Nothing gets by you. Does it, Snips?”_

_“Not much. Except Palpatine being the Sith Lord.”_

_Anakin visibly cringed._

_“That one got by all of us.”_

_Reminded of the gravity and the urgency of what they were dealing with, Ahsoka cut the comm and rushed out the temple. It wasn’t until she’d gotten past the front desk of the senator’s building with the excuse of urgent Jedi business and talked Senator Amidala’s security into letting her up to the woman’s floor that Ahsoka was struck with another realization._

_She was about to meet Anakin’s other partner—his wife—for the first time. Granted, Ahsoka had seen her before. From a distance around the Senate. Up close when Senator Amidala had been part of the greeting party for the Festival of Lights about a year ago or so. And Senator Amidala probably had no clue who Ahsoka was because even if Skyguy had dropped hints about her identity, Ahsoka wasn’t near enough of a public figure for the Senator to figure that all out._

_Still._

_There was something daunting about meeting face to face the woman that Anakin had been enamored with enough to not just break the rules of the Jedi to have a relationship with but to also_ marry.

_Ahsoka shook her head and released her anxieties and insecurities into the Force. She had a mission. First of which was convincing the woman and her security that there was a need for her to be there._

_Once she got past the second round of security after she reached the floor, Ahsoka was escorted through the front door and into a public sitting area. Her security dutifully waited at the edge of the room as they waited for Senator Amidala to arrive._

_The woman swept into the room from the hall, wearing casual green velvet robes that pulled away from her waist in a way to hide her pregnancy—something that was only clear to Ahsoka because she knew about it._

_Ahsoka paused for a moment to take the woman in. She looked so different. Without her elaborate hairpieces. Without all her makeup. Without her more elaborate and decorative robes. She looked more like the woman Ahsoka had seen in Anakin’s visions. Long curly hair bouncing about her shoulders and the top of her back._

_Confusion was apparent on her face when she laid brown eyes on Ahsoka. That made Ahsoka remember why she was there. She clasped her hands in front of her and nodded. Pleasant but solemn._

_“My name is Ahsoka Tano. Master Skywalker sent me.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos, comments, and subscriptions. I appreciate it! Keep it coming.


	10. The Right Jedi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Padmé and Ahsoka rescue Anakin, and of course, it is not straightforward...

Naboo was lauded for its progressiveness when it came to social programs and the way the government invested in its people. However, Padmé was not blind to the fact that the progressiveness they were so lauded for did not extend to some of Naboo’s deep-rooted traditions, prejudices, and biases.

There had been a reason the gungans and her people had lived in two separate societies that never crossed, even though they lived on the same planet and mined the same resources. When Padmé had initially suggested they enlist the help of the gungans when the Trade Federation invaded, all her advisors balked at the idea. Many calling the gungans everything short of savages. As much as Padmé liked to think that she was much more progressive than some of her people, she too was a victim of the biases and prejudices that had been ingrained in her. Something that she hadn’t been aware of until she finally left Naboo when she was queen and met Anakin. Something that she was forced to open her eyes to even more when she married Anakin, and he made to see the world from his perspective.

All in all, perhaps that upbringing could be blamed for never contemplating taking another lover for herself while she’d always been open to and accepting of the idea of Anakin having other lovers. Padmé had tried to cling onto as many traditions as she could for all the ones that she had broken. And she’d clung onto to being to the dutiful and faithful wife that took to honorable pursuits to occupy her time when separated from her husband because of his duties.

Now, Padmé could have slapped herself for being so prudish. That was if she could have focused on anything else except clutching the copper arm of the hand that was currently pumping into her.

“Right…” Padmé trailed off at the jolt pleasure that shot through her nerves. Once she caught her breath, she continued, “Yes. Right there. _Fuck_!”

Her thighs clamped around Ahsoka’s hand as her body began to convulse with pleasure from her climax. There was something absolutely thrilling about it being someone other than her husband, someone other than whom Naboo tradition dictated she should share this with, that made it feel different. That made it feel like the best sex she’d had in ages though she’d never felt particularly wanting in the area of sex before.

When she came down, she looked at Ahsoka, who was sitting with her head leaned on a propped up knee and watching her with a self-satisfied smile on her lips. Padmé eventually gained enough presence of mind to blush and have a bit of self-consciousness about her body. While Padmé was still slight and petite, her stomach was much softer and pudgier than it had been before she gave birth to Luke and Leia. And her breasts weren’t as perky as they had once been. Anakin had always thought her self-consciousness about it was ridiculous. Perhaps he was right. Ahsoka didn’t seem to mind.

“Okay,” Padmé said once she caught her breath again. “When this is all over, I get to take you out on a date.”

“A date,” Ahsoka teased. “Senator, why ever so? You already got me to go willingly to your bed.”

Padmé huffed and sat up, pulling a blanket up with her to cover herself for the sake of her own self-conscious more than modesty’s.

“That may be so, but I’m still a proper and traditional girl from Naboo. And as the one higher on the social ladder in this relationship, it’s my job to properly woo you. At least initially,” Padmé teased.

“I’m a Jedi, Senator. We don’t want for much. Besides, I think your tongue did more than a sufficient job. But if you’re concerned. By all means, you’re welcome to it again.”

Padmé laughed.

“Serious,” Padmé said as she absently began to fiddle with the tips of one of Ahsoka’s lekku. “Anything you want. What’s your ideal date? Something you’ve always wanted to do. There must be something.”

The blue of the lek she was playing with suddenly flushed a darker blue. Padmé glanced at Ahsoka’s face to make certain that she wasn’t wrong to take this as embarrassment. Earlier, when Padmé had been, at first timidly, drinking between the woman’s legs to bring her to the peak of pleasure, the blue had flushed so darkly it appeared black.

“Go on,” Padmé encouraged.

“It’s stupid,” Ahsoka said with a roll of her eyes.

“It would not be.”

“It is. Skyguy would think it’s stupid.”

“I’m not Ani. So go.”

Ahsoka still hesitated. But to Padmé’s delight, she eventually did answer.

“I want to go back to all the planets I went to during the war. For all that I could tell you about the terrains and the best way to mount an offense or defense on most of them, I couldn’t really tell you much about the planets. What the cultures are like. What the people are like during peacetime when they don’t have to be afraid of the war and what it means that things have gotten so bad that the Jedi had to get involved.”

“That’s not stupid at all,” Padmé replied. She understood the desire. Even though she too had seen many planets during her tenure as Senator, she’d been so tunnel-visioned about stopping the war and preserving the Republic that she hadn’t taken the time to really see the planets she’d visited. Always learning only what was necessary to negotiate and not offend those on the other side.

“That’s not the stupid part.” Padmé didn’t have to encourage Ahsoka to continue this time. “I want to go to a carnival. Like one of those corny ones with the bad prizes and cheap food just because. To have fun. Frivolous, the Jedi would call it.”

“There’s nothing frivolous about that at all. Everyone deserves to let down and relax some type of way.”

“It’s not the way Jedi let down and relax. We go on meditative retreats.”

“It could be a form of meditative retreat.”

Ahsoka laughed. “Loosely speaking.”

“Well, I don’t think it’s stupid. I think it’s cute.”

Ahsoka huffed. “You can laugh if you want. Anakin probably would. He would say I’ve been reading too many of those webcomics and watching too much anime. He thinks it’s all stupid.”

Padme laughed. “He should not be one to talk. He loves to watch those sappy romcom holo flicks. He’s very much a closet romantic.”

Ahsoka’s face lit up like her favorite holiday had come early.

“No!”

“When we get back to Coruscant, I’ll have to show you the physical collection he keeps at our apartment,” Padmé said in a conspiratorial tone.

“I am never going to let him live it down.”

“I look forward to it.” Then, “So it’s a date. We’ll get Ani to watch the twins.”

“He’s going to pout about being left out.”

“He’ll live,” Padmé said with a shrug. Then, “Ani really should have introduced us a long time ago.”

Ahsoka didn’t immediately reply as her gaze suddenly shifted away from Padmé’s.

“What?”

“Yeah… about that. He wanted to. Years ago, actually. Not even for anything like this. Just so we’d know each other existed and be whatever we wanted to be,” Ahsoka clarified. “I didn’t want to.”

“Why not?”

Ahsoka sighed. “It was a few months after the war. I was feeling very insecure about me and Anakin’s relationship. I wasn’t exactly sure if it was something that would last beyond the war, and you’d just had the twins, and he was spending a lot of time preoccupied with that. So when he suggested it one day, I might have—” She paused to look for the right word. “Overreacted. I broke up with him for a while. Not because I actually wanted to, but because I thought he’d look at me and look at everything he had with you and realize I didn’t belong anywhere in that picture. Not the way we’d carried on during the war. Now I know that’s not true. And it was Skyguy. When was he ever able to let go of something once he decided he wanted it? But I just… There was a lot going on back then.”

“If it makes you feel any better, Ani was absolutely miserable that month and a half or so without you.” Padmé groaned. “And he was absolutely miserable to deal with while he was avoiding the Temple to give you space. Although he was helpful with the twins, I’d never been in such close quarters with Anakin for such a long stretch of time. I love him. I do. But he racked my nerves that month.”

“You don’t have to explain,” Ahsoka said with a fond sigh. “Anakin can be… He can be a lot sometimes. I have been guilty of shipping him off with Obi-wan to get rid of him for a few hours.”

Padmé laughed. “Anyway, he told me what was going on once I couldn’t take it anymore. And I figured out pretty quickly something like what you said was happening. Especially after—”

Padmé paused. What Anakin had been just so close to doing. They didn’t talk about it often. Padmé liked to focus on the fact that he hadn’t. That it wasn’t his fault. That they’d all been manipulated by a psychopath—Anakin more than the rest. But he hadn’t stopped by himself. If Padmé hadn’t been investigating Palpatine, if she hadn’t run Ahsoka out her apartment to chase after Anakin and stop him from falling prey to Palpatine… Well, Padmé was sure that her worst nightmares couldn’t fathom what would have happened if Anakin had gone to confront the man on his own. And it all would have been done in her name.

“After he almost handed himself over to Palpatine for you, pretty much validating my point that he would choose you over me?” Ahsoka finished bluntly for her.

Though Ahsoka’s words didn’t sound accusatory, Padmé still felt the need to defend Anakin. Because for all that the man could be a genius, he could be so shortsighted and stupid sometimes.

“That’s not how he saw things. You know Anakin. Always jumping into things without a thought to the consequences. It never occurred to him that if Palpatine asked for the destruction of the Jedi, that would put you in danger too. He would have made sure… Or at least tri—”

“I know,” Ahsoka said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “We talked it out. We talked out a lot of things.”

“I know you did. I told him not to come back until he worked out things between you because I couldn’t take him moping around anymore, and the twins could sense his mood, so they were cranky. I don’t know if that was true. But it seemed like something that could happen.”

“Probably.”

“But sometimes… well, you know. Anakin frequently puts his foot in his mouth. He’s so bad at feelings.”

“Tell me about it.” Ahsoka paused. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Besides, it’s probably the least I could do since you took care of him for me while off fighting the war.”

Ahsoka glanced at the chrono and said, “We should move. We’re going to be out of hyperspace soon.”

They took turns in the fresher, and it was as Ahsoka was tying her utility belt that Padmé noticed her right hand was trembling.

Ahsoka waved it off when Padmé pointed it out.

“It’s my bad hand,” she explained as she put her bracer back on.

“Oh. Right. That was from Palpatine. Right?”

“Yeah. It’s healed a lot since. But every now and then, it flares up.” She finished clasping the buckle on her bracer, and the trembling stopped. “There.”

“I remember those, Anakin worked on them for days. Stayed up all night once to finish them so he could give them to you,” Padmé said with a fond smile.

“Yeah. They’ve been pretty useful.”

While Ahsoka took care of the piloting, Padmé got ready to man the guns, just in case. They’d hardly dropped out of hyperspace before Ahsoka said, “He’s here.”

They landed near a facility built on one of many molten lava rivers of the planet.

“What’s the plan?” Padmé asked, hand on her blaster under the cape she’d worn to protect her from the suffocating heat of the planet. Somehow, it was both better and worse than Tatooine. The air on Tatooine was dry and made Padmé’s throat and nose burn from rough air. The heat on Mustafar, though, was humid, and already Padmé could feel beads of sweat rolling down her back.

“Walk in through the front door,” came Ahsoka’s reply.

“Anakin and I did that once.”

“I thought the two of you kept your personal and professional life separate. Tried not to go on missions and things together,” Ahsoka said as they walked into the facility through an unguarded entrance.

“We did. For the most part. But this was right before the war and before we got married.”

“What happened?”

“The geonosians found and captured us before taking us to Count Dooku. Then they sentenced us to execution by wild beasts. Anakin had already confessed his feelings to me by then, but since I thought there was a chance we might die, I decided to tell him they were mutual. Then, we ended up inadvertently starting a war instead of stopping it.”

“Sounds exciting, Senator. But you don’t have to go through so much trouble to impress me. Dinner will do.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Padmé said as the hall they’d been walking through suddenly ended.

She palmed the panel out of curiosity, and the doors swooshed open to what looked like a circular control room.

“How fortunate,” Padmé stated.

“Not really. I think it’s just the panels to maintain the protocol that protects this place from the lava. I wish I hadn’t been in such a rush that I’d thought to bring Artoo along. He’d be able to make sure,” Ahsoka replied. She looked at the other entryway into the room. “But if we—”

The other entry suddenly opened, and in filed a not-insignificant amount of droids remaining from the war past. Padmé began to unhook her blaster, but Ahsoka’s hand on hers stopped her. Padmé looked at the other woman in confusion but followed her lead.

“Surrender now, Jedi,” one of the droids said with their blaster pointed at Ahsoka.

“Oh darn,” Ahsoka said with a roll of her eyes. “You caught us. Whatever will we do?”

Padmé had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing.

“Your weapons.”

Ahsoka easily enough surrendered her two lightsabers while Padmé gave up blasters. Once they were cuffed, one of the droids announced that they’d be taken to holding until their generals came to deal with them personally. And that’s when Padmé caught on to Ahsoka’s plan. The droids would take them right to where Anakin was. Hopefully, Ahsoka had a way for them to get out of this.

“I’m going to have to rethink our future together, Jedi,” Padmé whispered to Ahsoka as they were led through the facility. “Arrested twice in less than a week.”

“At least our future won’t be dull.”

Padmé huffed.

They were just about to enter another hallway when the droids suddenly stop. And then one of them said, “New orders. Take them directly to the main control room. The bosses want to see these two for himself.”

While Padmé was mildly concerned, she maintained an impassive air about herself. Next to her, Ahsoka did the same. Her cool façade nearly came undone when the doors to the central control room opened, and there, sitting around a large round control panel, were some of the elusive Separatist Council members who had disappeared once Palpatine’s plan crumbled. The most prominent present being Rune Haako. Nute Gunray, his boss, wasn’t present. Elusive as usual.

“Padmé,” Ahsoka said.

“Yeah.”

“Wait on my signal. Then I want you to go back in the direction the droids were originally taking us. You’ll find Skyguy that way.”

“But what about…”

“I’ll handle these guys.”

Between the droids and the Separatists leaders, it seemed like bad odds even for a Jedi. But Padmé had no other options but to trust Ahsoka. Doing that hadn’t failed her yet. Even if it had only been a little over a week.

“Jedi,” said Passel Argente, who had been one of the chief, wealthy backers of the Separatists movement. “I would have thought the Republic would send more than one lone little knight and senator to retrieve their prized Jedi. You found us quicker than we anticipated. No matter. You will join him.”

“See,” Ahsoka began once they’d been brought all the way into the room, “about that. Before we get started, I wanted to let you know that you made two mistakes. The first was kidnapping Anakin Skywalker.”

The Council laughed at her. Ahsoka’s smirk was positively feral.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what your second was?” she asked.

One of the men made a gesture for her to continue if she wanted.

“Your second mistake was assuming that I’m harmless without a lightsaber.”

The cuffs suddenly dropped from Padmé’s wrists. By the time Padmé realized that, Ahsoka was already moving. The Jedi grabbed hold of two of the blasters that had been too slow to point her way and released a jolt of electricity from her bracers that shocked and disabled the droids holding them. She used the Force to knock them out her way, creating a path to the door they’d been brought in through.

Pretty sure this was her signal, Padmé grabbed a fallen blaster and ran out the room. She didn’t look back, fully trusting that Ahsoka would stop anyone from chasing after her. She only paused to recall what direction the droids had initially been taking her and Ahsoka before taking off down a hall and up some stairs into a short hall of cells. Clearly, they didn’t plan on keeping prisoners here.

“Ani!” Padmé yelled. “Ani! Are you here?”

Padmé heard her name, muffled from one of the doors. She paused in front of the one she thought it was coming from and heard her name clearer. She blasted the locking mechanism with two bolts and then pushed the door open.

“Ani!” she exclaimed, running into the cramped cell.

“Padmé, what are you doing here?”

His words were just a little slurred, prompting Padmé to give him a look over. Ahsoka had been right. He hadn’t fared too well in that crash. His hair was bloody from where he’d hit his head somewhere that Padmé couldn’t see. When she pressed on his chest, he winced, but Padmé didn’t have enough medical knowledge to know whether his chest was just bruised or something more sinister.

“Rescuing you,” Padmé finally answered when she was done.

“And I had just finished planning my grand escape.”

Padmé wasn’t sure whether the fact that he could joke was a good sign, but she decided to take it as one.

“Can you stand?”

With some difficulty, they managed to get him standing. But it was when Padmé tried to throw one of his arms over her shoulder that she realized his hands were cuffed. Padmé took a moment to take her pick out her hair and undo them. Once they fell, Padmé noticed Anakin’s right arm was useless. They’d deal with that later, Padmé decided, throwing the arm over her shoulder so he could lean on her. She forced herself not to buckle under his weight, especially knowing he was trying not to depend so much on her.

“Fuck, I really hope Ahsoka didn’t get captured again so she can help me with you,” Padmé muttered when they were halfway down the stairs

Anakin startled, almost causing Padmé to lose her grip and send them both tumbling down the stairs.

“Ahsoka,” he said. “My Ahsoka? She’s here.”

“You didn’t think I found you and came to rescue you alone, did you?”

“I wouldn’t have put it past you.”

That was fair considering Padmé would have done just that if Ahsoka hadn’t let her come along. Maybe brought a handmaiden along with her.

As though she’d been summoned, Ahsoka appeared at the end of the hall with three super battle droids hot on her heels. She stopped upon seeing them at the end of the hall before turning around to deal with the three battle droids with extreme prejudice. In that moment, Padmé was sure it was one of the most stunning things she’d ever seen.

“Anakin,” she said.

“Yeah.”

“I think I’m in love with her.”

“Me too.” Padmé gave him a moment to realize what she said. Then, “Wait! What? When?”

“We’ll discuss it later.”

“Can’t go back that way,” Ahsoka said as she caught up with them on the stairs. “Please tell me there’s another way out?”

“I think so,” Padmé said.

“Wait,” Anakin said as Ahsoka got on Anakin’s other side, relieving Padmé of some of the burden. “How did you two end up here together?”

“We’ll explain it later, Skyguy,” Ahsoka replied as they helped get him back up the stairs.

* * *

**_Coruscant, 7 Days After The Battle of Coruscant_ **

This Jedi, _was the thought that seemed to be shouted by some disembodied entity into Padmé’s mind when she laid eyes on the young togruta woman with red-orange skin and white and blue lekku. Padmé had been expecting an older Jedi with more experience and wisdom. Then again, Padmé knew from experience that age didn’t necessarily mean wisdom._

_So distracted was Padmé at the urging in her mind, in her entire being, that she missed what the Jedi said to her when she entered the room._

_“I apologize. What’s going on?” Padmé asked._

_“Master Skywalker sent me. He has reason to believe you may be in danger.”_

_“What kind of danger?” Padmé asked. Because on any given day, her security investigated various threats against her._

_“A special kind. The Jedi kind.”_

_The Jedi kind…_

_“The Sith?” Padmé asked._

_She was surprised. Padmé didn’t know how she knew that. The younger woman wasn’t showing it._

_“Yes. I don’t know how much Master Skywalker has told you about them but—”_

_“It doesn’t matter,” Padmé said as the urging got stronger. “Come with me.”_

_“Senator…”_

_Padmé continued toward her office, fully expecting the Jedi to follow her. She did, only protesting again once they were in Padmé’s private office with the door closed. There was no telling who might be a pawn of Palpatine. Even among her own staff._

_“Senator,” the togruta began._

_Padmé once again ignored her protests, and she pulled up the holo collage of information she’d gathered._

_“Look at this. I know it’s all a longshot, and it looks like a bunch of coincidences. But I think it might help the Jedi. You may have found the Sith, but none of it’s going to matter because Palpatine has taken advantage of this entire conflict to consolidate as much power as possible. I think he may have even planned it. We’re going to have a much bigger problem than the Sith once the war is over if we don’t stop this.”_

_Padmé watched as the Jedi circled the holos. Pausing every now and then to read one piece of information before following it to the connections and conclusions that Padmé had drawn from them._

_“I was hoping to show them to Ani—Master Skywalker. But he’s so close to the chancellor and—”_

_“Palpatine’s the Sith Lord,” the other woman suddenly said._

_Padmé couldn’t even really say that she said it. More that it fell unbidden from her lips._

_“I… Palpatine’s the Sith Lord. That’s why Anakin sent me. I think Palpatine might have threatened you. He wasn’t clear.” The girl—because looking at her like this Padmé saw she was barely more than that—shook her head. “But even if all this is true, Palpatine can’t get away with any of this. The Jedi would never let him. He might be powerful, but he can’t take on the entirety of the Jedi Order and the GAR at once. He…” She snapped her fingers. “The GAR. He controls the GAR. That’s what the chips are for.”_

_“What chips?”_

_“There are inhibitor chips in the clones. A few months ago, a clone killed a Jedi. Kamino and the chancellor wrote it off as a virus that gave him delusions and impaired his judgment. The Chancellor said his own team looked into it and confirmed it was just a virus. But that’s not what happened. Fives said it had something to do with the chips. There’s something on those things that the Chancellor can use to make the clones kill the Jedi. With the Jedi spread thin across the galaxy and surrounded by the clones, they wouldn’t stand a chance. That’s why he didn’t want anyone looking into the chips. That’s why he had Tups and Fives killed.”_

_“Months ago? But if the chips have been there that long, if he’s had all these pieces in place, what’s he been waiting on? What reason would he have to-?”_

_Then Padmé remembered. The reason she’d begun to investigate all this. First, intending to just look at the war as a whole before narrowing in on the Jedi and Palpatine. Then focusing on Palpatine when it seemed he’d had his hand in and benefitted from every single thing that went wrong. Anakin lashing out at her about Palpatine. Anakin, who was closer to Palpatine than anyone. Palpatine, a Sith Lord, who’d given Anakin his ear for seemingly no reason other than kindness to the young man who once helped save his home planet. Seemingly. Because that also gave him the ear of a powerful young Jedi. And why would a Sith Lord be that invested in the Jedi’s prodigy?_

“I found a way to save you… From my nightmares.”

_“How did Anakin find out Palpatine was the Sith Lord?” Padmé asked. Quietly. That was the only way she could hold her voice steady._

_“He said Palpatine told him. I didn’t have time to ask why. He—”_

_“You have to find Anakin. Right now!” Padmé practically yelled. “Palpatine wants to turn Anakin to his side.”_

_“To his side? Anakin would never—”_

_“He_ would _. He would if a friend asked him, and he thought he could protect someone he cared about.”_

_Padmé hadn’t given much thought to who this Jedi was. Only that the whispering had turned into urgent shouts as soon as Padmé saw her in her waiting area. But the way the other woman started to turn ashen, the way her eyes widened in terror like she just knew Padmé’s words were true, had intimate knowledge of it—that told Padmé all she needed to. This was Anakin’s Jedi lover. The one that he spoke so reverently and highly of the rare and fleeting moments that she came up in conversation._

_“I… I’m sorry. I have to—”_

_“What are you waiting on?” Padmé yelled. “Go find him!”_

_That seemed to snap the girl out of whatever stupor she’d fallen into, her features morphing into a look that Padmé had seen on Anakin’s face when he set his mind to something._

_She ran out the room, hardly stopping to open the door to Padmé’s office. Padmé followed, but by the time Padmé made it out, the Jedi was already gone._

_“Is everything okay?” Captain Tyhpho said when he saw her._

_“No. No, it’s not,” Padmé replied. “I’m going to change. Have a transport ready for me with the quickest route to the Senate building.” She made a stop by her office to make a comm call. Bail immediately picked up. “Bail. Meet me at the Senate building. Asap. I’ll explain it all when we get there. Tell Mon and the other loyalist members too. The Jedi are going to need our help.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Those lines with Padmé saying she might be in love with Ahsoka and Anakin's reaction are some of the first scenes I envisioned when I was conceiving this story.
> 
> 2) I have put a lot of thought to what Naboo culture and society must be like. And how the fandom's view of Naboo is skewed some by the perspective we get of it from Padmé. However, a few things are telling. The first is that until Padmé approached them, the humans of Naboo and the gungans lived separately for the longest. The second is the way Padmé shrugs off when Anakin kills the sand people. The third is how Padmé says that the queen probably won't let her serve as Senator while she's married and a mother. The fourth being that Palpatine is from Naboo and not all his ways can be attributed to him being a wicked Sith Lord. For instance, the xenophobic and racist policies he enforced during the Empire (and probably towards the end of the Republic) didn't just come out of a vacuum. 
> 
> I am positive there is some Naboo elitism and exceptionalism that ungirds their society and culture, especially among the elite. Of which Padmé is part of. Palpatine shows it more overtly (eventually). But Padmé exhibits it more covertly and unintentionally in her first visit to Tatooine when she encounters slavery and in her second visit by the way she seems to other the sand people and maybe see them as less than sentient (it's implied in AotC that the "people" on Tatooine see them as little more than savages and animals to be killed when encountered) when she brushes off Anakin killing them. She does this even though Anakin says it wasn't just the "men" but the "women and children," implying that he knows they aren't the animals and "savages" that he convinces himself they are because of his own biases. Hence why Padmé is so shocked when Obi-wan tells her in RotS that Anakin killed younglings at the Jedi Temple. She legitimately doesn't appear to equate the two.
> 
> Thus, while in some ways, Naboo is very forward in social and progressive issues when it comes to their people, in some ways, they are very stuck in outdated and harmful ways
> 
> But that's just my two cents based on what canon gives us.
> 
> You get the chapter a couple of hours early because I am so tired that I doubt I will be getting up in time to get it up tomorrow before my long day starts. Thank you for all the kudos, comments, and subscriptions. I appreciate it! Keep it coming.


	11. Exposure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which secrets are exposed...

Ahsoka had known better than to hope that by the time they exited the facility into Mustafar’s hot and humid atmosphere that the Republic backup she’d requested as soon as she sensed Anakin on the planet would be there. Unsurprisingly, luck wasn’t on their side in that aspect. Nor was luck on their side considering that their ship was a distance away on the _opposite_ side of the facility. And standing between them and getting to that other side was a lava river and droids.

Ahsoka might have been able to make the jump across the river if she were alone. She would have even been able to fling Padmé across it with the Force. But Anakin was too injured for the jostling that using the Force to get him to the other side would have to involve to get him to the other side of the river quickly. Doing it slow and steady was a disaster waiting to happen with the droids making ground behind them.

Thus, the best option Ahsoka and Padmé had right now was to keep hobbling forward as fast as they could while supporting Anakin between them.

“I am still confused about how you both ended up out here,” Anakin managed to grunt out.

“We’ll explain it later,” Ahsoka replied.

“If there is a later at this rate,” Padmé added. “Those droids are going to gain ground on us and get back in shooting range eventually.”

Ahsoka didn’t dare look back to check. Just said, “Hopefully, Master Windu and the Republic will come through before we have to worry about that.”

“Master Windu?” Anakin asked.

“He was the one the Council decided to send to look for you,” Ahsoka explained as they marched up a hill. Before Anakin could ask, she added, “I disagreed with that and decided to start a private, third-party investigation.”

“The Council is going to censure the hell out of you for that. And I won’t be able to stop them.”

“It’s not the first time I’ve disobeyed an order.”

“Not like this since—fuck,” Anakin said with a wince before he continued, “Since before the war. We’re not protected by the Jedi being stretched thin anymore, Ahsoka.”

“Yes, _Master_ ,” Ahsoka drawled sarcastically.

From the other side of Anakin, Padmé giggled.

“I see nothing funny, Senator,” Ahsoka said as they reached the top of the hill.

“It really is. I never would have pegged Ani as the responsible and cautious one of your relationship.”

Ahsoka scoffed. “He’s not. He’s just being annoyingly protective right now.”

“And I still don’t understand how you ended up with her,” Anakin directed to Padmé.

Ahsoka wasn’t sure whether Padmé planned to reply or not. Regardless, Ahsoka pushed them down behind the slope of the hill to shield them from oncoming blaster fire.

“Are they really that hellbent on revenge for the Clone War? They could just leave and go into hiding and take the droids with them. The place is compromised anyway.”

“It’s not me they’re after,” Anakin said.

The fact that Ahsoka could clearly make out his Tatooine accent told her just how injured he probably was. Usually, the only hint of it was a barely-there drawl when he was being mockingly deliberate or sarcastic.

Without prompting, Anakin reached over and grabbed his useless right arm. Then he moved the unbuckled the glove on it just enough to pop open a small compartment that held a data stick inside.

“What’s that?” both Padmé and Ahsoka asked.

“The plans to their superweapon.”

“It’s real?” Ahsoka asked.

“Very.”

Now they really needed to find a way out of this. She looked around for anything that would be useful, scanning the kilometers of hot volcanic rock and lava rivers. The river… the current could take them all the way back to where the ship was on the other side. They just needed something…

Ahsoka spotted some kind of transport coming down the river being navigated by two droids.

“I’ve got an idea,” Ahsoka said, grabbing onto Anakin again and leading them down the slope. Padmé followed.

They went to the edge of the river, and Ahsoka used the Force to pull the boat over to them once it came close enough down the river. The droids steering and rowing the boat struggled to continued rowing against her Force grip.

“Is this safe?” Padmé asked.

“The Force isn’t saying it’s not,” Ahsoka said.

“It’s not saying it is either,” Anakin grumbled. “But we don’t have much of a choice.”

Ahsoka was just cautious enough to touch the inside of the boat to make sure that it was cool and insulated. Then, with Padmé’s help, she got Anakin into it, helped Padmé inside, and then climbed in behind them. Once unhindered, the steering droids ignored them and continued to row down the river.

Noticing them making an escape, the droid walked along and lined up on the river bed and began shooting at them. Ahsoka deflected the bolts with her lightsabers, and Padmé joined her to pick off as many of the battle droids as she could with her blaster.

“Can this thing go any faster?” Padmé asked.

“How should I know?”

“It was a rhetorical question.”

“You two are bickering like an old married couple,” Anakin commented, though he didn’t seem displeased or annoyed by that fact. “What exactly have I missed in the last two weeks?”

Anakin let out a cough after his comment. Ahsoka wasn’t sure if she should tell him to conserve his energy and stop talking or if that was keeping him from falling asleep when she wasn’t sure that he should.

“We’re almost there. I can see the ship,” Ahsoka said to them.

“One problem,” Padmé said, drawing Ahsoka’s attention to droids blocking their way onto the bank.

Fuck.

Ahsoka started to steer them away from the bank, but Anakin sat up and lifted his left arm. Ahsoka felt the Force swell around them at Anakin’s command. Then he closed his fist and jerked his hand back. Many of the droids blocking their way onto the bank fell over into the river, melting into the lava in a show of smoke and sparks. Some droids still blocked their way, but Ahsoka felt her odds of clearing a path for them was much better.

Ahsoka leapt out the boat first. She activated the shockers in her bracers to release electricity that shocked and temporarily stunned the droids long enough for her to easily cut them down with her lightsabers. Behind her, Padmé helped Anakin out the boat.

“Go ahead of me,” Ahsoka said.

Padmé helped half drag Anakin along the path Ahsoka cleared while Ahsoka walked backward to deflect the blaster bolts coming their way.

Padmé got Anakin, who’d used up most of what remained of his energy clearing their path earlier, up the ramp and into the ship. Ahsoka stood on the ramp and continued to block the bolts while Padmé, hopefully, got the ship started for takeoff.

A blaster bolt got past her, just grazing one of her delicate lekku. But enough for Ahsoka to be temporarily stunned by blinding pain and leave her open to more blaster fire, even as she felt the ship starting to lift into the air.

The blaster fire never came.

When Ahsoka gained her bearings, she saw the droids were shooting into the sky at the just arriving Republic backup.

As she safely retreated into the _Silver Angel_ and closed the ramp, Ahsoka heard Padmé grumble from the cockpit, “They couldn’t have arrived before we’d managed to beat the slim odds to get to the end of our escape?”

Ahsoka agreed but was more concerned about where Padmé had unceremoniously dumped Anakin in her haste to get them off the hostile planet.

“You okay?” Ahsoka asked, kneeling in front of where he sat against a wall.

“A little upset I missed most of the action. But I’ll live.”

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. “Idiot.”

“Love you too.”

And even though he was a mess, injured, and exhausted—her too but to a much lesser degree—Ahsoka leaned up and kissed him chastely on the lips. She didn’t mean for it to be very long, and it wasn’t. But maybe it was just a little longer than she’d intended because it was long enough for Padmé to enter the room.

Ahsoka felt herself flush as she pulled away and noticed Padmé standing near them. Padmé just smiled, sat next to Anakin, grabbed his hand in hers, and pulled it into her lap. Ahsoka settled on his other side.

“The Republic is pulling us in via the tractor beam,” Padmé said, breaking the silence. “I told them about the remains of the Separatist Council and requested that they have a medical team ready for when we land.”

“I can walk to—”

Anakin withered and swallowed his argument under Ahsoka’s and Padmé’s glares. That didn’t stop him from telling the medical team that they were overacting as they laid him on the medical capsule and took him to the med bay. Ahsoka and Padmé got to stay long enough to see Anakin to the team waiting for him and for Ahsoka to get the datastick hidden in his arm. Then they were both dismissed to allow the medics to their work.

Ahsoka let out a slow breath of relief. So did Padmé. Ahsoka turned to face the shorter woman with a tired smile. Padmé returned a similar one before frowning.

“Your lek,” Padmé said, reaching out to cradle Ahsoka’s scorched left lek. “You need medical attention too.”

Ahsoka shrugged. “Nothing a little bacta patch won’t fix in a few days. Not the first time I’ve injured one.”

“Think there might be some on the ship?”

“Doubt it,” Ahsoka replied. “Trace doesn’t exactly keep up to standard code for first aid on her ship. I’ll be fine until they get through with Skyguy.”

“I’m sure someone can help you. Surely not every single medic is occupied with his case.”

“I can wait.”

Ahsoka received the same withering look they’d both given Anakin earlier.

“I see Anakin managed to pass on his aversion to taking care of himself to you.”

Padmé dragged Ahsoka back to the _Silver Angel_. Surprisingly enough, the ship did have a halfway decent first-aid case with bacta patches.

Once Ahsoka’s lek was patched up, she went to greet the admiral and the accompanying Jedi Master in charge of the ship. In the meantime, Padmé decided to contact her Senate allies to notify them of the new development with the Separatist Council.

Ahsoka didn’t recognize the hulking, purple lasat male Jedi. Nor did she recognize his name, Jaro Tapal, when he introduced himself and the padawan trailing behind him. In the hours it had taken Ahsoka to get Anakin settled and get herself patched up, the Jedi master had managed to secure Mustafar, capture the Separatist Council members that hadn’t managed to flee (Rune Haako among them), and had scouts doing a thorough sweep of the base below. He’d also been in contact with Master Windu, who would rendezvous with them within the next standard cycle.

“I believe this,” Master Tapal began holding out a lightsaber to Ahsoka, “belongs to Master Skywalker.”

“Thank you, Master,” Ahsoka said as she took the lightsaber from him.

When Master Windu rendezvoused with them the next day, Ahsoka waited dutifully for him as he landed. Without preamble, the man said, “I have the Council waiting on comm. They’d like to speak to you.”

In other words, her insolence had been so egregious, they couldn’t wait until they saw her face to face to get at least the verbal reprimand out the way.

Sure enough, after she more or less briefed them on events of her mission, Master Yoda said, “While commendable and a boon for the Republic, the results of your investigation were, ignored, it cannot be, that disobeyed clear and direct orders from the Council you did.”

“I did,” Ahsoka replied, resisting the urge to defiantly cross her arms. She was in enough trouble as it was. Thus she carefully clasped her hands behind her back.

“Do you have an explanation for that, young one?” Master Plo asked softly

“I—”

Ahsoka paused, despite the Council waiting expectantly for an answer. She could tell a half-truth. Say that there was no excuse. Get the Council to turn a blind eye to her and Anakin’s relationship another day. Or at least, keep them guessing as to the true nature of it. Regardless of what she said, she was facing punishment for running off and blatantly disobeying them. But before this adventure, Anakin had told her he wanted to leave. That he was tired of this double life. If she were honest with herself, so was she.

Ahsoka exhaled. Then she crossed her arms, tilted her chin up defiantly, and shrugged.

“Well,” she began blithely, “you couldn’t have expected me to stay home and do nothing when my boyfriend had gone missing.”

The serene stoicism of the Council was not easily ruffled. They received dozens of reports and intel on their members daily. Ranging from the mundane to the grim reports they received during the Clone War. However, Ahsoka sensed and saw genuine surprise at her blunt admission. To which Ahsoka didn’t even try to resist rolling her eyes.

“Oh, come on. It’s not like you didn’t already have some clue and were just pretending not to know. I moved into his apartment when I became a knight. Where did you think I was sleeping every night? The couch?”

Ahsoka swore Master Plo coughed to cover up a laugh. Aayla Secura, an addition to the Council after the war, had an “of course” look on her face. Obi-wan carefully schooled his features into one of innocent serenity. The same one he used when explaining to the Council why a simple mission had gone straight to hell probably by his own fault, though, he’d never admit it. Other than that, the Council was silent yet again until Master Windu took control of the situation and said, "The admission of your indiscretion with Master Skywalker, along with your insolence, is a matter that can be discussed when we’ve returned to Coruscant.”

The rest of the Council agreed, and shortly after, the comm winked out. At which point, Master Windu let out a deep sigh. That special, exasperated one he used when specifically dealing with the latest shenanigans of Ahsoka’s Jedi lineage, so Anakin had joked to her before.

“At the very least,” Ahsoka began for lack of anything else to say, “you probably won’t have to deal with me and Anakin for much longer after this.”

“I’m not going count on it just yet,” came Master Windu’s stern response after he’d collected himself from his momentary break in control.

Now Ahsoka was the one ruffled. During her moment of surprise, Master Windu had begun to leave the ship.

She rushed to catch up with him and asked, “What do you mean?”

Master Windu paused walking to consider her for a moment. He continued his pace with Ahsoka walking alongside him.

“Let me be clear,” he eventually began. “Your blatant lying and disobeying of the rules, rules set in place for a reason—regardless of whether you agree with them or they are convenient to you—has no excuse. While it is true that the Council was not blind to the fact that you were at the very least having trouble upholding a part of the code, as the Council, we make ourselves available not just to punish members for breaking the rules but to guide them before those rules can be broken. To help us evaluate the efficacy of those rules and their implementation.” He paused. “That said, it is perhaps a critique of the Council’s lack of transparency and openness with its members that one of our own didn’t feel they could come to us for anything other than reprimand and punishment, let alone guidance, when facing a difficulty such as this. Something I’d expect from Skywalker, to be sure, but not from one who was raised among our ranks since they can remember.”

Feeling surprisingly encouraged by Master Windu’s… Sympathy? Understanding? More than likely weariness, Ahsoka said, “I don’t… Skyguy and I aren’t the only ones.”

“The Council is more aware of that than you’d think. We have been for centuries now. The Clone Wars and, admittedly, your former master have simply made it extremely apparent. And now… Now, you have forced our hand.”

Ahsoka… wasn’t precisely sure how to take that. So she said nothing and nodded her head at first. Then something the stern master said came back to her.

“When you said to help you evaluate the efficacy and the implementation of the rules…” Ahsoka trailed off. Master Windu got her point.

“I’m suggesting, Knight Tano, that you use the skills in diplomacy that you have picked up while working with the Senate for the Clone Relief Initiative to argue your case.”

Another considering look and Master Windu parted ways with her.

* * *

**_Coruscant, 7 Days After The Battle of Coruscant_ **

_Ahsoka usually fell somewhere between Anakin’s reckless insanity and Obi-wan’s cautiousness when it came to flying. But today, she raced through the lanes, likely breaking every Coruscant traffic law on the books. Probably driving even worse than Anakin did on most occasions. Enough to get her stopped and arrested if not for the fact that her registration came up as a Jedi. But none of that mattered. Not when she had to get to Anakin before he did something monumentally stupid. Before he could agree to do whatever it was Palpatine wanted him to do in exchange for protecting Padmé._

You know what Palpatine will ask from him, _a voice in the back of her head whispered._

_Ahsoka ignored it. Or rather, she tried. But she knew the lengths Anakin would go to save someone. Or to avenge them. She remembered the dark thoughts and impulses Anakin had to reign in when he thought Obi-wan had been killed. She remembered wanting to scream, shout, throw a tantrum at the Council for sending them to apprehend who they thought was Obi-wan’s killer. Wondered if they weren’t aware of just how callous it was, if they’d ask this of any other Jedi besides Anakin. She remembered Anakin telling her that she didn’t have to come with him to apprehend the suspected murderer. She remembered insisting that she went anyway. Because she’d been secretly terrified what Anakin might do if he didn’t have to try to be the exemplary Jedi in front of her._

_As much as she wanted to deny it, Senator Amidala was right. Anakin would do_ anything _to protect the people he cared for. Ahsoka had never contemplated how much of a weakness it might be._

_Fuck._

_She could really use some help. Why did Obi-wan have to be off-planet_ now _of all times? Then again, maybe that had been part of Palpatine’s plan too._

_Her comm went off, and Ahsoka managed to take her hand away from the wheel to press the button on the dashboard and answer without causing an accident._

_“Tano.”_

_“Ahsoka,” came Rex’s voice. Even if his voice didn’t sound so grave, Ahsoka would have known something was wrong because he called her by her name. “Tech got back to me. Those chips… Commander. They—”_

_“They have a command on them authorizing Palpatine to override the will of the clones and order them to kill the Jedi,” Ahsoka finished for him. “I know.”_

_“And a lot more than that, kid. It’s… It’s bad.” A pause. “How did you—”_

_“I’ll explain it all later. But I need you at Senator Amidala’s apartment. An hour ago,” Ahsoka added._

_“Senator Amidala?”_

_“Yes.” Ahsoka paused, not quite sure how much information she should give to Rex. “You’re one of the only clones without that chip in your head. Palpatine wants Anakin for something. If this goes bad, she may be the Jedi’s and the Republic’s only hope.”_

_“I’m headed to her now.”_

_When Ahsoka had initially spoken to Anakin, he’d been heading back to the Temple. But she whizzed right past it as her instincts told her to go to the Senate building instead. She hardly remembered parking. Just that she’d seen Anakin’s fighter and ran, hoping she could catch up with him._

_She caught sight of him, just about to enter the lift that would take him to Palpatine’s office._

_“Anakin,” she shouted, not caring about propriety or tradition or that there were still people milling about._

_He stopped. Turned to face her just in time to catch her before she could literally run into him. He gripped her under her arms and behind her elbows to steady her. Ahsoka clung to his arms._

_“What are you doing here? I tho—”_

_“You can’t trust Palpatine. Whatever he’s told you, he’s lying,” Ahsoka blurted out. She didn’t bother to even try to release the worry and panic that was unbecoming of a Jedi into the Force. Didn’t try to assume the demeanor of the fully trained Jedi Knight she’d been training to become._

_“Ahsoka—”_

_“He did this. Anakin, he planned everything from the beginning. Senator Amidala. She put it all together. He took advantage of the Separatist crisis to consolidate power and dismantle the Republic into his absolute military dictatorship. He has benefitted from everything that’s ever gone wrong during the war, if not outright planned it. The only thing in his way are the Jedi, and he’s planning to use the clones to kill the Jedi spread across the galaxy.”_

_“That’s not… Palpatine wouldn’t.”_

_“He would. He told you he’s the Sith Lord the Jedi have been looking for. It’s always been about getting gaining power and getting rid of the Jedi. It’s been his plot from the beginning of the war. Probably longer. That’s what Fives was trying to tell us about the chips.”_

_Anakin shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense. If that’s the case, why wait? You must have—”_

_“Because he’s been waiting on you. Everything he ever told you, everything he’s ever done for you, was a tactic to bring you closer to his side and make you into his apprentice. He’s not your friend. He never has been.”_

_Ahsoka regretted her hasty accusation as soon as it left her tongue. Anakin had never taken kindly to accusing people he cared about of being anything less than in the high esteem he held them. That was particularly so when it came to the chancellor. But it was too late now._

_His face began to contort defensively, ready to defend the man. Ahsoka didn’t let him._

_“I know you think he’s your friend. I know you’ve known and trusted him longer than we’ve ever known each other. I would_ never _get in between that. Not if I wasn’t sure about this. That’s why Rex and I didn’t tell you we were investigating the chips, Fives’ death, the part the chancellor might have played in it. But just this once, I’m asking you to trust me. I need you to trust me now.”_

_Ahsoka felt the moment she got through to him. The moment he crumbled, practically falling into her arms. And maybe they should have cared a lot more that they were out in the open where anyone could see them, but that didn’t matter right now either._

_“Ahsoka… I can’t… I can’t just let her and the baby die. He said—”_

_One day, her master was going to learn that he couldn’t save everyone. That people dying was out of his control, no matter how powerful he was. That he needed to learn to accept loss. But that was a worry for another day. It certainly wouldn’t help convince him that Palpatine wasn’t the answer._

_“The most important thing you can do to make sure they don’t die is to be there with her. Do you really think Palpatine is going to allow that if you agree to join him? Do you think Padmé would allow it?”_

_Ahsoka didn’t know a lot about Senator Amidala. But one thing was clear to Ahsoka based on what she’d seen of the woman in the Senate and from the diligent work she’d put into practically cataloging Palpatine’s entire career. She would not stand for anything that Palpatine had planned. She would not stand for a husband that would go along with anything Palpatine had planned. She certainly wouldn’t stand for letting her child be a part of it._

_“I… No,” Anakin answered barely above a whisper._

_“Then that means we have to find another way.”_

_Anakin let out a mirthless laugh. “We?”_

_“You don’t think I’m just going to let you deal with this on your own?”_

_Especially after he almost accepted the help of a Sith Lord. But that was another thing to worry about later._

_He let out a huff. Then he pulled away and frowned._

_“What?” Ahsoka asked._

_“Master Windu gathered the Council left on-planet to confront Palpatine. They need my help.”_

_Ahsoka nodded and clicked the lift button. When she followed Anakin into the lift, he didn’t stop her._

_“Ready?” Ahsoka asked when they got to the floor of the Chancellor’s office._

_“Yeah.”_

_He didn’t sound ready, but it was going to have to be enough._

_They entered the office. Dead Jedi Masters were on the floor. Master Windu was standing over Palpatine next to the shattered window._

_After some back and forth between Master Windu and a newly deformed Palpatine, both trying to convince Anakin they were right, Anakin looked to Ahsoka for reassurance. She nodded._

_He lit his lightsaber and shakily said, “Chancellor, you’re under arrest.”_

_“Anakin,” the old man begged. “Please.”_

_Truthfully, if Ahsoka didn’t already know what Palpatine had planned, that this was all a part of his plot, even she might have hesitated at the sight of Master Windu standing over the deformed man with his lightsaber and the intent to kill._

_“Just come quietly,” Anakin begged in return. “We might be able to work this out.”_

_An angry snarl. Palpatine proving not to be so helpless as he appeared as he got back to his feet, knocked Master Windu out the way, and summoned a red lightsaber back to his hand. Palpatine laying down an ultimatum that if Anakin wouldn’t join him willingly, he’d force him. A fatal error, if you asked Ahsoka. Because Anakin Skywalker never let anyone_ force _him into_ anything _without one hell of a fight._

_What happened next was a blur of purple, red, blue, green, and yellow lightsabers. For an old man, Palpatine was surprisingly agile. And only the fact that Anakin had focused so much on improving her agility and using it to her advantage saved her from being pierced by the Sith’s lightsaber more than a few times._

_In the end, Anakin got the Sith’s neck locked between his own blade and the red one that he’d managed to disarm Palpatine of while down on his knees. Palpatine only grinned, saying some nonsense about Anakin’s anger and the dark side. Ahsoka ignored the burns on her thigh and arm where she just missed the slash of a lightsaber, the pounding of her head from being thrown into a wall. She grabbed a pair of shock cuffs from Master Windu, who was struggling to his feet, and put them on the Sith’s wrist. Then Anakin extinguished the blades and jerked Palpatine up with his right arm. He held the disfigured man’s arm like he was still stuck between running off with him or making sure he didn’t escape._

_Somewhere along the way, Senator Amidala had arrived with Rex, her security, Bail, and a few other senators trailing behind her. Ahsoka exchanged a look with Rex, who shrugged._

_“The Republic owes the Jedi a debt that cannot be repaid,” Senator Amidala said with a polite smile, looking directly at Anakin. Anakin returned it with a smile of his own, cheeks just turning red as all his focus went to the human woman._

_Ahsoka resisted the urge to roll her eyes. If this was how they always acted when they were around each other, it was no wonder they had a rule not to interact professionally. All of Coruscant would have kn—_

_Ahsoka instinctively lifted her lightsaber in response to the Force screaming a warning. Just in time for Palpatine to wrench himself out Anakin’s grip and send Force lightning Senator Amidala’s way. Ahsoka managed to deflect some of the lightning with her saber, but her angle was off, so her arm absorbed a good portion of the attack_

_She staggered back._

_The sound of a blaster bolt._

_The sound of a lightsaber._

_Ahsoka hit the ground, cradling her right arm that now felt like it was on permanent fire._

_A gut-wrenching sob._

_Anakin suddenly at her side, saying her name._

_Blissful darkness._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. So a couple of things to say about things in this chapter.
> 
> 1) I probably will write little one-shots from this verse. One of which shows how instead of it being the nature of Anakin’s and Padmé’s relationship that’s always up for debate and suspected, it’s Anakin’s and Ahsoka’s. It’s the latter relationship that gets whispered and wondered about amongst the Jedi and the members of the Senate who have seen them around together. Many (but not all) of both groups have varying degrees of concern about it, in fact, based on some of the points made in this fic. As a result, the Anisoka relationship actually serves as a cover to hide the Anidala one in this world. Because sure, Anakin and Padmé are assumed to be very close friends privately. But people know that the Naboo are very conservative when it comes to relationships, even though their laws don’t limit marriage and relationships to monogamy. _No way_ Padmé would be having a secret relationship with Anakin when the same said Jedi obviously has something going on with Ahsoka, though no one is sure of the extent of it. 
> 
> Hence, Mace admitted they had some idea that something was going on. In the flashback, Ahsoka knew that people could see them, probably did see them, but didn’t care because of more pressing matters.
> 
> 2) Every time I watch the Rako Hardeen arc, I lose my shit when it’s Anakin and Ahsoka that they send to apprehend Obi-wan in disguise. Regardless of what anyone says a Jedi should or shouldn’t be, it’s a HUGE conflict of interest and risk to let anyone who is close to someone killed go after the murderer. Anakin and Ahsoka shouldn’t have been allowed anywhere near that case. It is callous to make anyone do that even if they could do it without giving in to their supposed weaker impulses. 
> 
> Thank you for all the kudos, comments, and subscriptions. I appreciate it! Keep it coming.


	12. Resignation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Padmé speaks her mind...

When they got back to Coruscant, Padmé and Ahsoka switched off staying with Anakin while he was in recovery with Obi-wan there more frequently than not. First in a full bacta submersion and then while kept sedated to allow him to heal. Technically, it shouldn’t have been possible for Padmé to gain this kind of access to the Jedi Temple. But Ahsoka put her on some type of list as her temporary guest or something so that no one asked questions about Padmé’s presence.

Having put off her work for a little over a week to rescue her husband, Ahsoka took to looking after Anakin in the mornings and afternoons. Then, Padmé would leave work, make her way to the Jedi Temple, and trade off with Ahsoka until the head healer, Master Che, put her out. What the girl was doing in the late afternoons and evenings, Padmé wasn’t entirely sure. Because she had no idea what a Jedi Knight did to occupy their days during peacetime. So she asked one day when she came to trade places with Ahsoka, and the other woman wasn’t in a hurry to leave.

Ahsoka laughed at the question without looking up from her datapad.

“Meditate—commune with the Force. Use actual diplomacy to settle disputes if needed,” Ahsoka replied wryly. “For the last few years, war clean up.”

“But what do you do. Specifically.”

“Sometimes I do that stuff,” Ahsoka admitted. “More times than not, I’m at the Coruscant Clone Relief Initiative Office and working on that with Rex and Cody. A lot of times, it requires us to go off-planet as representatives to ease the fears of rulers who want to help but don’t know the needs of the clones and what that entails. I also spend more time than I would like at the Senate. When I’m not practically lobbying for the Clone Relief Bill, I’m talking to the military leaders that are left to improve the working conditions and protocols for the clones who stayed in the military.”

“I didn’t know your work with the clones was so expansive.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be. It’s their movement, and sometimes I feel like I’m overshadowing it. Every time I try to pull back, though, Rex and the rest of the 501st rope me back in. Sometimes I don’t have a choice. There’s a lot of prejudiced sentiment about the clones, and it helps to have some Jedi assistance. Shockingly, the war didn’t completely shatter our reputation to pieces.”

“But you haven’t been doing that for the last few days,” Padmé pointed out.

“No. I haven’t.” Ahsoka paused. “You know how I outed me and Anakin’s relationship to the Council? And then how he outed you and his relationship to Master Windu?”

Padmé nodded. Not long after Master Windu arrived in the med bay to check on Anakin on their way back to Coruscant, Anakin had very blithely said, _“You know, as to really show that I’m ready to be an honest and upstanding Jedi, I suppose I should also formally introduce you to my wife, Senator Amidala.”_

Padmé hadn’t been sure if it had been the drugs or if Anakin decided he may as well. Given what little Padmé knew of Anakin’s history with the master Jedi and the way the master Jedi’s face twitched, Padmé was sure it was the latter, along with having the added benefit of perturbing the normally stern and unflappable man.

“Master Windu suggested that I argue our case before the Council. I was preparing for it all week.”

“What’s there to prepare? Sounds like you had a good argument already when you explained it to me.”

“Yeah, but when you’re suggesting the Order throws away a thousand years of tradition, even if it is based on banthashit and people have been breaking said tradition since it was instated, you have to use a little finesse.”

Padmé laughed. “You certainly didn’t learn that from Anakin.”

“Oh gods, no! You really don’t know how glad I am that he was still knocked out when I went before the Council about it. He would have managed to insult every single master more than he does on a normal occasion.”

“Wait. You already went?”

Ahsoka nodded. “This morning.”

“And?”

Ahsoka didn’t answer immediately. She scrolled through her datapad for a long while before sighing and looking up at Padmé with her brow furrowed and a slight frown.

“I think they’re going to want to talk to Anakin. But other than a few nods, some questions—some that were really invasive and I wasn’t sure they realized that—and humming, I really don’t know,” Ahsoka admitted. “If I had to make a guess, though, I don’t think most of them particularly liked what I had to say. I’ve been preparing my mind to not be a Jedi much longer.”

“That’s absurd,” Padmé blurted out before she could stop herself.

Generally, she tried not to overly-critique the Jedi. Shariya knew that Anakin had enough conflict about the Jedi without her adding to it. A conflict Palpatine had encouraged and taken advantage of. However, many of the Jedi ways and traditions were in direct opposition to her upbringing on Naboo. The lack of Naboo Jedi was evidence of that. The Naboo may train their children to take their leadership positions and set up careers for the prosperity of the planet at a young age. But they’d balked at the idea of giving away their children to the Jedi. While Naboo’s historical relationship with the Jedi wasn’t nearly as contentious as places like Mandalore, there was a reason that the Jedi had stopped sending finders to the planet. Naboo didn’t even have mandated testing for Force sensitivity when children were born.

Padmé was sure she was the first Naboo parent to be asked to give up her children for the Jedi in centuries. The only reason the Jedi had even known was that Padmé gave birth on Coruscant, which _did_ have standard mandated testing for Force-sensitivity. The only reason they’d dared ask her was that Luke’s and Leia’s power couldn’t be ignored and her close relationship with Anakin and Obi-wan.

Today, however, she would not hold her tongue.

“Regardless of whether or not they had a good reason for it, it’s antiquated and cultish. There were much less restricting ways of teaching people not to be consumed by hate and fear so they wouldn’t turn to the dark side or start another war. And clearly, it didn’t work because one started anyway. All to stay in the good graces of the Republic who should have never allowed it in the first place. The audacity. To take children from their parents before they even remember, indoctrinate them, and then threaten to expel them from the only home they’ve ever been allowed to have for breaking their rules! It’s cruel!”

“Padmé, the Jedi aren’t jailers. We’re free to leave whenever we want. We’re free to explore ideas outside of this even as Jedi.”

“But how could anyone leave except in the most extenuating circumstances when it’s all you know. You don’t know your family. You don’t own anything and are at the mercy of what the Order provides. And while you may be free to explore other thoughts, you certainly aren’t encouraged to. Or you’re looked down for it,” Padmé snapped, knowing very well that Anakin still struggled with being ostracized for being different from his fellow Jedi. “And you’d think they’d realize this after one of their own almost willing turned on them because of it. After one of their own did turn on them and bombed their temple, and then you got caught up in it. They’re as bad and as frustratingly blind as the Senate. Unwilling to admit that their refusal to actually listen to and address the grievances of reasonable dissenting voices is what caused the Separatists crisis and enabled Palpatine and huge corporations and production wealthy conglomerates to take advantage of it.”

Ahsoka smiled. “How long have you been holding that in?”

“A while,” Padmé admitted. She let out a long, slow breath. “It’s just… It’s frustrating. I have to be careful with what I say about the Jedi. There were enough people with anti-Jedi sentiment in the Senate and the galaxy that were willing to toss the Jedi out the airlock in misplaced frustration with the war and refusing to believe we’d all been tricked and played into a psychopath’s hand. Whatever they were guilty of, the war wasn’t their fault. Or even theirs to begin with. They just fought it for us. We’re lucky they were willing to.” She paused. “But it seemed like none of them saw or cared how broken Anakin was after we killed Palpatine. He had to kill someone he thought was a friend, a friendship they encouraged when it benefitted them. And they just expected him to bounce back. It took me and Obi-wan weeks to convince him to go to the mind healers. And even then, I was resigned to still lose Anakin to the war.”

Resigned, that was, until Obi-wan walked into her apartment and told her that Anakin was missing. Faced with one of her worst fears, Padmé had been determined to find him, bring him home, and convince him to leave the Order herself if it came to it that he’d changed his mind. Like she should have asked him four years ago rather than enabling his unhealthy need to fix everything. Rather than letting him think she’d be disappointed in him for putting himself and his health first. For all her stupid talk of duty and perhaps, in some small part of her, actually thinking that they should put it before everything else.

Ahsoka reached over and grabbed Padmé’s hand. “You know it’s not your fault either. We all did the best that we could or what we thought was right. But we know now.” Then she gave a resigned smile. “The Order has its rules. I’ll respect them, regardless of what the Council decides. If they decided to stick to their traditions, I’ll do what’s best for me and my situation, even if that forces me to leave. I’ll find something to do.”

“Sounds like you have plenty.”

“Maybe. Or maybe I’ll start my own movement to reform the Jedi Order from the outside. A former Jedi who left would get a lot of attention. Especially if in addition to the Queen of Alderaan, I had a Naboo senator on my side.”

“Sounds like you’re hoping to make the Jedi rue the day they put you out the Order.”

“Not really. But if they do, I can’t say I won’t get some satisfaction out of it.”

“That sounds like revenge. I thought the Jedi didn’t do that?”

“They don’t. But I thought you might have learned by now that I’m not the typical Jedi.”

Padmé grinned. “Using my voice to stir up controversy and trouble for the sake of others? That’s right up my alley.”

“Or even for yourself. I definitely remember the stir you caused when you had the twins, and there was no husband in sight.”

Padmé rolled her eyes. The things the Senate made a fuss about. There they had been four years ago, only just beginning to uncover the depths of Palpatine’s machinations, with the Republic on the brink of collapse, and they’d been more concerned that she’d given birth and wouldn’t disclose whether or not she had a husband. Padmé had been lucky that Queen Apailana was so much more progressive in thinking than Naboo rulers past and tradition would have mandated. The queen had publicly congratulated her and supported her continuing to serve as Senator and respected that she didn’t want to disclose details of her private life.

Padmé had also been lucky that she’d been so instrumental in uncovering Palpatine’s machinations. Many who might have used her supposed indiscretions to cast doubt on her ability to hold the office of Senator with integrity couldn’t have done so without undermining their own. The media had still talked about her for a few weeks, many attempting to shame her from Coruscant and back to Naboo. But Padmé had ignored their talk. She’d had two newborns to look after and a secret Jedi husband who was pretending to be okay but was far from. The latter proven by the fact that Anakin hadn’t reacted with the righteous and reckless indignation that he normally would have at people trying to drag her reputation through the mud. She couldn’t have cared less what anyone was saying about her.

“I sometimes despise the Senate.”

Ahsoka laughed. “Don’t think this gets you out of taking me on that date, though. I’m very much looking forward to it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Master Jedi.”

* * *

**_Coruscant, 3 Days After Palpatine’s Demise_ **

_The galaxy was in chaos._

_Padmé guessed that was to be expected when the leader of the Republic was accused of treason and attempting to usurp the government to build an Empire where his word was supreme law. Not many people were willing to say that besides Padmé. Even Mon and Bail were careful with their wording, afraid that such accusations would cause the Republic to completely unravel. But even they couldn’t deny it when Palpatine’s offices had been raided, his cabinet questioned, his associated bank accounts frozen and examined, his encrypted communications decrypted. It had been exponentially more than what Padmé had uncovered in her initial clandestine investigations. Palpatine had all his bases covered. If he’d succeeded, it was possible that none of them would have ever truly known the depth of his machinations. If she hadn’t looked into him and that Jedi hadn’t come running into her apartment and they hadn’t figured out what was going on in the nick of time. If Palpatine had gotten Anakin to believe him…_

_The possibilities had kept Padmé awake for the last three days. Granted, she hadn’t been getting much sleep with the baby, keeping her awake at night, but now she couldn’t sleep at all. Not when she hadn’t heard from Anakin since three days ago. In Palpatine’s office. Where a bunch of senators, her security, and Anakin’s clone captain witnessed Palpatine create_ lightning _and aim it directly at her. If not for that togruta Jedi getting in the way. Anakin’s Jedi lover._

_Palpatine hadn’t lived long after that. Padmé had raised her blaster from reflexes drilled into her over the years of assassination attempts and other misadventures. A bolt went straight through Palpatine’s chest at the same time as a blue lightsaber pierced the man through his chest from the side._

_Palpatine’s body hadn’t even hit the ground before Anakin had dashed to the young woman’s side. The girl let out a strangled, painful sob before Anakin managed to soothe her with whispering assurances as she hugged her right arm to her chest._

_In that moment, Padmé had wondered if their relationship was secret anymore. Not with Anakin whispering sweet nothings to her and kissing her forehead in between barking orders for people not to just stand there and call a medic. When the medic came, Anakin very quickly met her eyes, to which Padmé nodded in understanding. Then he looked to Master Windu, who urged him to go and that he’d handle the Senate side of things for right then._

_That had been three days ago. Padmé hadn’t seen or heard from Anakin since. She could only pray that he was okay. That nothing had happened. Certainly, he hadn’t been arrested for killing Palpatine. Not if she hadn’t been arrested yet. Not when it was clearly self-defense. Not when there were at least a dozen witnesses from other Senators to her security to the other Jedi who had seen that they planned to arrest Palpatine quietly, had him cuffed and apprehended before he’d attacked. Not when they recovered the audio in the raids and heard the entire confrontation from beginning to ending._

_Padmé turned in her bed upon hearing her bedroom door open. Anakin’s silhouette entered the room._

_Padmé turned on her bedside lamp and sat up as quickly as her massive belly would allow._

_“Ani! Are you okay? Is everything—”_

_Padmé cut herself off as Anakin gave a deep sigh. It gave her a moment to also feel silly for asking the obvious. Of course, he wasn’t okay. None of them were._

_Anakin silently removed his shoes, and that was all before he collapsed next to her on the bed. He wrapped an arm around her back while placing the other on her belly. For some moments, they just laid there. Anakin stroking her belly. Padmé playing with his hair._

_Finally, Padmé asked, “Is she okay?”_

_Padmé really wished she had caught her name earlier, but Anakin knew who she was talking about._

_Anakin didn’t immediately respond. Padmé could only guess why._

_She wasn’t dead. That much Padmé knew. If she were, Anakin wouldn’t be able to function right now._

_“She’s fine. Mostly. Obi-wan’s with her right now. He sent me away. Said I should get some rest.”_

_“How’s her hand?”_

_Anakin sighed. “Her right hand, wrist, and forearm are pretty banged up. Our Jedi healer thinks it’ll heal. With time and some physical therapy. But she’s going to have tremors in her hand for a while. I’m going to make new bracers for her. To help steady her hand.”_

_“That’s good,” Padmé replied quietly._

_Again, they laid there in silence. Not a tense one, but certainly one that felt like the calm before the storm._

_Finally, Anakin muttered, “This is all my fault.”_

_“It’s not your fault. Palpatine tricked us all.”_

_“Not you. Not Ahsoka.”_

_Ahsoka. That was her name. Pretty._

_“But he almost did. I would have never even realized it if I hadn’t started really looking into the events behind this war. And I never would have put it together at all if you hadn’t sent Ahsoka here, and I hadn’t shown her—”_

_“So what you’re saying is that both of you had to do your own secret investigating? Because you both knew that I couldn’t be trusted since I was so under Palpatine’s spell and wouldn’t listen to you?”_

_The statement wasn’t angry, Anakin’s default when he wasn’t sure how to react to something terrible or deal with his emotions. But defeated. Despondent even._

_“No. That’s not—”_

_“But I was. And I wouldn’t listen. To either of you. You tried to warn me about Palpatine. Ahsoka tried to tell me the nightmares weren’t as straightforward as they seemed while secretly investigating those chips in the clones. And both of you had to hide it from me because I believed everything that came out of Palpatine’s mouth.”_

_“Ani…” Padmé trailed off._

_She wasn’t sure… She couldn’t particularly argue with him because he was right. Every time she even said something that sounded like it opposed Palpatine, Anakin had taken Palpatine’s side. Padmé had thought it was just a matter of political differences. Goodness knew they both disagreed on things. Like how much autonomy did you give people before government intervened? When did government exercise its power to make people do the right thing? Before or after people were harmed in the name of free will, democracy, and respecting planetary systems’ right to govern their own affairs?_

_But with Palpatine, it had been more than that. So. Much. More. Palpatine had wanted to make Anakin trust him over everyone else. And Padmé hadn’t noticed. Hadn’t let herself see what was happening. Not until it was almost too late._

_“Going to be a story for the grandchildren one day. ‘Did you know grandpa was friends with a Sith Lord and almost helped him usher in a new Sith Empire?’”_

_Anakin sounded as despondent as he had since the beginning of this conversation._

_Then he choked out, “Fuck. This is all my fault, Padmé.”_

_“No, it’s—”_

_“But it is. You don’t know. You don’t know what I almost did. If Ahsoka hadn’t stopped me… You don’t know what I was thinking about doing before Palpatine tried to attack you and forced me to—” Anakin paused. Then, “I would have done anything he asked me to do. I think… I would have killed anyone he asked me to kill. Even every single Jedi.”_

_“No, you—”_

_“Not like I haven’t done something like it before.”_

_The sand people. When they killed his mother. Padmé was ashamed to admit that her own biases and the stories Anakin’s family told her about the native people of Tatooine had influenced her assessment of the situation. Made Padmé think of them as little more than unthinking rage animals who terrorized actual sentient beings of Tatooine, and thus, Anakin’s slaughter had been justified. If senseless and unhelpful. It hadn’t crossed her mind that he’d ever contemplate doing such a thing to… well, people who she’d considered, at the time, were actual, sentient beings._

_Shiraya. Anakin was making it really hard to argue with him. And… had she been so blind to his issues until now? All in the name of protecting this bubble around their forbidden marriage. All in the name of preserving the only fantasy they had left in a galaxy crumbling around them._

_“Would you have killed Ahsoka?”_

_“Why would I—”_

_“You said you would have done anything he asked. She’s a Jedi. Would you have killed her? Or let him have her killed in exchange for protecting me and the baby?” Padmé asked quietly._

_His response came quickly._

_“Of course not. I would have… I would have found some other way. I would have protected her from it. I wouldn’t have. I… I wouldn’t…?”_

_The fact that his answer came so unhesitatingly, if a little terrified at the idea that maybe he would have in the end, told Padmé everything she needed to know. Everything that she’d_ wanted _to hear._

_“Then he didn’t have you as under his spell as he thought. As you thought. There was a line you wouldn’t have crossed. That matters. It says a lot.”_

_Anakin was silent once again._

_Padmé wasn’t sure for how long, but the sky was beginning to lighten outside._

_“Angel.”_

_“Yes, my love.”_

_“I… I know we planned for me to leave the Order, to leave Coruscant after the war. But I have to see this through. I can’t abandon everyone to clean up a mess that I helped make. I need to… I need to be sure about all this. Because I still don’t know if I believe… if I believe Palpatine was behind everything.”_

_Padmé couldn’t say that part of her, the small part of her that was a traditional woman from Naboo, wasn’t a little disappointed. But also, she couldn’t leave with the Republic in shambles like this either. Not in good conscience. It’s what they agreed to. Duty over their personal lives. Even if that meant she wouldn’t be going home to Naboo to have her baby. To set up the baby’s room right by the gardens. To have Anakin there with her, without him having to answer to the Jedi. Even though their marriage had to remain secret._

_Padmé knew what she’d signed up for when she agreed to this marriage._

_“I can’t leave it like this either. I understand.”_

_And she did. She really did understand._

_The words still felt like ash on her tongue._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) I 100% am aware of the tragic irony that Padmé is wrong when she said there was a line that Anakin wouldn’t have crossed. Because we all know there wasn’t. We all know how their relationship and RotS ended.
> 
> 2) Padmé’s thoughts on the Jedi somewhat mirror my own. Look. I get it. The movies try to present to us that they aren’t bad. That it’s just something that happens in the world. And we get the intention of the Jedi out their mouth. BUT… the collective actions, beliefs, and code (at least their interpretation of it) tell a wildly different story. The Clone Wars series definitely explores some of that and might have explored more if it hadn’t been cut short on its original run. I know it’s controversial (Ish. A lot more people are willing to point it out nowadays) to say that the Jedi were a cult because they’re doing it in the name of good. But also, I think it’s a very dangerous rhetoric to say that the ends justify any means. Either way, the narrative and the shows can try to justify all day the Jedi ways are necessary. But when you look at it, it makes absolutely no sense. And I wonder if we’ll see what Luke’s Jedi training school looked like and if he did anything different. Because it appears in ST (though I loathe it), the attachment piece is thrown out the door.
> 
> Thank you for all the kudos, comments, and subscriptions. I appreciate it! Keep it coming.


	13. Propriety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Padmé, Ahsoka, and Anakin have a discussion....

Ahsoka and Anakin protested when Padmé decided that for the duration of his recovery, a week at most, she was taking Anakin home, away from the Jedi Order. Both or different reasons, though. Anakin because he didn’t seem to think he needed any more of a recovery, citing after he woke up from his sedation, he felt more rested than he’d felt in years. Ahsoka because she was uncomfortable with the idea of staying at Padmé’s apartment to help Padmé manage Anakin. Not that Ahsoka said it in as many words. Padmé decided the best course of action was to ignore both their protests.

“I still don’t need to recover from anything,” Anakin said as Padmé made him relax on the couch. “I told you. I’m—”

“I won’t hear another word about it, Anakin Skywalker,” Padmé declared.

Anakin turned to Ahsoka. “Back me up on this one, Snips.”

“Anakin,” Ahsoka began dryly, “you used to walk around with all manner of injuries during the war, including a cracked rib that almost killed you when it pierced your lung because you delayed getting medical attention. I don’t care what you say. You’re going to take this recovery.”

“You’re both ganging up on me. Why in the world did I ever want you two to meet?”

“It was one of your better and more reasonable decisions, my love,” Padmé said, kissing him on the forehead. “Besides. It was doing neither you nor Ahsoka any good being cooped up in the temple while anxiously waiting for the Jedi Council to come to a decision about what to do with you.”

“We weren’t anxious,” Ahsoka denied.

“ _We_ weren’t. _You_ were. You still are,” Anakin corrected.

“Okay. On this one, I have to agree with Ani.”

Anakin had no qualms about answering the Council’s questions openly and honestly when they came to interrogate him as part of their deliberation after his recovery. He’d even given some answers that Ahsoka was clearly a little uncomfortable with. Either that or she was uncomfortable with the blunt, nonchalant, and flippant manner in which he answered them. Daring the Council to tell him he was wrong.

Padmé could see why Ahsoka had been glad that Anakin had been sedated when she first faced the Council. And though the Council had allowed both Padmé and Ahsoka to stay as they grilled Anakin, Padmé had decided to take Ahsoka elsewhere. She’d cited hearing beautiful things about the Room of a Thousand Fountains and wanted to see it for herself.

Padmé sympathized with the younger woman. Invested in the Jedi as Anakin had been, he knew what life was like outside of it. He had a place he was comfortable going if he needed to leave it behind. Ahsoka, on the other hand, had none of that. Resigned as she was to leave it if necessary, the Jedi Temple and the Order was the only home and family she knew. For all that Padmé and Anakin would take her in with open arms, she was sure Ahsoka hadn’t completely gotten over not fitting into this space Padmé and Anakin had carved out for themselves.

“Now you’re ganging up on me,” Ahsoka stated. She turned to Anakin. “Anything we can gang up on her about?”

“Oh, don’t you worry. One of these days, she’s going to work herself into a frenzy over something to do with the Senate and stay ungodly late nights to get work done. You can help me go and drag her out that office when the time comes,” Anakin assured.

Silence followed. Something about Anakin’s statement reminding them of the newness of this potential arrangement. Reminding them that they hadn’t had time to talk about it. When Anakin woke up, they hadn’t wanted to put too much on him too soon despite Anakin insisting he was fine. The Council seemed to agree with Anakin and came to speak with him a day after he’d awakened. Then Anakin and Ahsoka had both been preoccupied protesting Padmé’s plans to take them home with her.

Now there was nothing.

Padmé finally awkwardly cleared her throat.

“So… um. Yeah. We should probably talk about this arrangement. Us, I mean,” Padmé added.

“You both know where I stand on this. Another life or death experience hasn’t changed that,” Anakin replied with a shrug. “If anything, I’m more certain. I love you both. I always have. Regardless of what you two decide, that’s not something that’s going to change. Not something I want to change.”

“You being the decisive one about something like this. You sure the healers didn’t miss a head injury?” Ahsoka asked.

Anakin shrugged.

Padmé looked at Ahsoka, who only glanced at her briefly before looking away. Padmé guessed she would go then.

“I already told you this, Ani. However, it’s worth repeating that my work and you have always been enough for me. But,” she turned to look at Ahsoka, “I think there’s room for you too. And if there’s not, I can, and I want to make room for you. It feels very… natural with you. Nothing’s been that natural since… well, since Ani and I were reunited seven years ago.”

The coloring of her lekku gave away that Ahsoka was feeling at least a little uncomfortable, if not outright embarrassed. Padmé wondered if being uncomfortable with feelings was a Jedi thing or an Anakin and Ahsoka thing. She was willing to bet it was a Jedi thing based on what she knew of their teachings.

“I’m going to preempt this with two things. I—” Her lekku flushed again. “I love you too, Anakin. But… I think you already knew that. Or had a feeling.”

Anakin flashed a grin. “There aren’t many secrets you have that I don’t already know about, Snips.”

Anakin’s and Ahsoka’s eyes met before they both chuckled. Must be an inside joke.

“And Padmé,” Ahsoka continued, “You… You make things easy too. I can see why this hothead is so enamored with you.” She nodded in Anakin’s direction as she said this. Then, “But if it comes down to it that the Council asks us to choose, and we have to leave, I don’t know who I am if I’m not a Jedi. At least, I’m not positive of it anyway. And I’m going to need space to figure that out. Without your overbearingness,” Ahsoka said with a stern look in Anakin’s direction. Then she gave Padmé the same look, “And without yours.”

Anakin laughed. Padmé found nothing funny.

“I’m not overbearing!”

“You are. You hide it behind your gentle well-meaning demeanor, but you can be about as overbearing as Anakin is. Or do I have to remind you of the way you manipulated Obi-wan and me into letting you go with me to rescue Anakin?”

“I’m on her side with this one,” Anakin said, laughing. He looked at Ahsoka. “I tried to tell her this once, but she wouldn’t believe me. A great skill to have in the Senate, though.”

“I take it all back,” Padmé said with half-feigned indignation. “I hate you both.”

They both shot her identical grins.

“Love you too, Angel,” Anakin said at the same time Ahsoka said, “Love you too, Senator.”

“Incorrigible. Both of you,” Padmé declared, crossing her arms.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Anakin teased. “You might run Ahsoka away with that attitude.”

“Eh. Don’t count on it. The things she can do with her tongue more than make up for it. In fact, I think she’s better with it than you are, Skyguy. Wouldn’t hurt to take lessons.”

Anakin sat stupefied while Ahsoka laughed. Then the girl pressed a kiss to his cheek and, after a moment’s hesitation, a kiss to Padmé’s also.

“See you later. I have to meet Rex and Cody at the office today. I’ve put off some tasks I promised I’d do long enough.”

With that, Ahsoka flitted out the room. Anakin managed to come back to himself then.

“Ahsoka. Wait. What?” The front door swishing closed was all the answer he received. He turned to Padmé. “Padmé?”

Padmé shrugged. “What can I say? Ahsoka’s much better at flirting than you are.”

“You can thank Obi-wan for that. She can be nearly as bad as he is sometimes,” Anakin grumbled. Then he shook his head. “Wait back on topic. You two…” Padmé shrugged and nodded. “I go missing for a week, and that’s how it is. Not only didn’t I get to play brilliant matchmaker, but you didn’t even consider that maybe that was something I wanted to watch?”

Padmé burst into laughter.

“What?”

Padmé shook her head. “Nothing.”

She looked in the direction that Ahsoka had disappeared.

“Can I ask you something about Ahsoka?”

“You have about seven years to catch up on. So shoot.”

“Has she always been so…” Padmé searched for the right word.

“Spirited? Freethinking? Determined to pave her own way and prove herself?”

“Yes. I suppose that covers it. Among other things.”

“She’s been like that since the day I met her when she was fourteen.”

“Right… About that. Ani—”

Anakin put his hands over his face. “I already know what you’re about to say. I’ve gotten this lecture in a roundabout way from Obi-wan. Directly from Breha when this all started. Had Rex threaten to shoot me over it. And the Council spent the better part of an hour grilling me about this two days ago. If anything, I need a recovery from _that_.”

“Well, you’re going to get it again, Anakin Skywalker. I, better than most, understand the nuances and intricacies about age and all that. But when we agreed to this arrangement, I did not mean for you to drag your padawan into it. It’s neither here nor there now. But Ani, I have to be sure that—”

“It wasn’t like that! I promise! It was… it’s complicated,” Anakin gave with a sigh. “The war… You asked if she’s always been so spirited and all that? She was, but… she almost lost that. And I don’t think she realizes how close she was to imploding during the war too. Sure, she presses forward and charges ahead like always, but there were cracks.” Anakin huffed. “When that situation with Barriss happened, Ahsoka took leave for a month. Spent time with Breha on Alderaan. I really thought she might not come back. If that situation had been any worse or the Council had expelled her so she could be tried, I think she really would have. I doubt even I would have been enough to make her stay. And part of me… part of me hoped she would leave and not come back. For her own sake.”

He stopped at that. Padmé gave him the time to find the words, his expression going through a gambit of emotions. He frowned. Then shook his head and gave a weary smile.

“I think under any other circumstance, me and her probably wouldn’t have fallen together. Not like this anyway. But we did. And it filled the cracks. And I’m not going to apologize for that. Trust me, we were both very aware— _hyper_ aware—of all the ways what we had gotten into was wrong, and what people would think, and all the ways we both could be punished for it. But I never stopped her from creating as many boundaries as she wanted with me. It’s not some pattern you have to worry about. It’s not… It didn’t start out like that. And I never planned to do that. I wouldn’t have done it before, but especially not after… Palpatine,” Anakin said with a bitter edge to his tone.

Padmé sighed. They were all going to be healing from the debacle that was the Clone War and Palpatine for decades. Sometimes Padmé forgot that she was only thirty-one. Relatively young, even by human standards. But sometimes, she felt so much older. And she’d felt the same way four years ago at only twenty-seven. Feeling like the weight of the galaxy had been on her shoulders. In many ways, it had been.

Anakin and Ahsoka had been even younger. Anakin, a general by virtue of being a Jedi Knight when most young men his age in many human cultures weren’t even out of university or had barely begun to explore what the galaxy had to offer them. Ahsoka, a commander by virtue of being a Jedi padawan when she hadn’t even reached her final growth spurt—or even her second—by togruta standards. One barely more than a boy. The other at the cusp of womanhood. Both dealing with things people many times their age couldn’t fathom—some of whom were in the Senate sending them on these unfathomable missions. Herself included as much as she’d fought against it. Padmé could see how, in those circumstances, it was only natural that they were drawn together. Propriety be damned. What did propriety even matter when they sent children to fight a war? One who couldn’t even legally get a speeder license on Coruscant when she’d started fighting it.

“I understand, Ani,” Padmé said, touching his face. “Trust me. I do. I just had to make sure. I had to make sure you were aware and understood.”

Anakin smiled and leaned forward to kiss her on the lips.

When he pulled away, he furrowed his eyebrows and said, “Before I forget to tell you this and while she’s not here to deny it. Ahsoka has—I wouldn’t call it a dependency or addiction—but she’s been known to overdo it with alcohol sometimes. She only ever drinks socially, but she does it in a way that you can tell it could lead to problems down the line. Obi-wan and Rex and Breha and I have a general rule that we always stop her at two drinks. Maybe three depending on the alcohol.”

Just like Anakin’s need to recklessly and selflessly throw himself into danger without any thought to his own wellbeing, Padmé supposed. They were all going to be healing from the debacle that was the Clone War and Palpatine until they were dead. Hopefully, it would be a result of old age and not because of any of their unhealthy coping vices.

“Has she seen a mind healer or counselor about it?”

“Me and Obi-wan have been working on that. But she just does what she always does when she doesn’t want to deal with something. Throws herself into helping others.”

Padmé absolutely would not point out how ironic it was that Anakin worried for Ahsoka over the _exact_ same thing he did. The exact same thing he _had_ done until finally, after four years, he was ready to let it go.

Anakin continued. “Even though she doesn’t like to interfere too much, I may have to nudge Breha for help as a last resort. Especially if we really are expelled. For whatever reason, threatening to tell Breha works wonders on Ahsoka.”

Much like Padmé would resort to telling Obi-wan when it came to Anakin. Good to know.

One of her handmaidens suddenly rushed into the room.

“Milady. I apologize for disturbing you. But the children have returned.”

“Send them in,” Padmé said with a dismissive wave.

“They didn’t come with Lady Sabé. They came with—”

“Padmé!”

Padmé froze. Oh, no…

“You are going to tell me what in the name of Shiraya is going on here even if I have to tie you down and hold you hostage,” her sister, the one and only Sola Naberrie, declared as she walked into the room with Luke and Leia giggling beside her.

And behind her, as though her and Anakin’s conversation and her own thoughts had summoned them, were Obi-wan and Breha Organa.

“I tried to tell them that you weren’t taking visitors. But…” her handmaiden trailed off.

“I’m not a visitor,” her sister declared. Then she turned to Anakin and said, “Good to see you, Anakin.”

“Hey, Sola,” Anakin replied.

While Padmé had never openly come out and told her family the identity of her husband, she had been forced to assure them that she at least had _some_ kind of partner when the twins came along. They’d been a mixture of shocked that she actually married, delighted that she found someone to be with, and angry that she hadn’t let them in on the secret and that they hadn’t been part of the celebrations as was Naboo tradition. Padmé understood all that but insisted that keeping his identity secret was vital while dropping as many hints to suggest who he was without outright telling them. Just in case. It had taken no time at all for Sola to figure out that her “Jedi friend” was the man in question.

“I’m here to see Ahsoka,” Breha began. “It’s all over the news. About how she was vital to the capture of what is known to remain of the Separatist Council. She hasn’t been answering her comm, so I came to check on her myself. I went to the Jedi Temple first. When I didn’t find her, I tried to contact you Anakin,” Breha directed to Anakin. “But you didn’t pick up either. Master Kenobi was kind enough to point me in the right direction and escort me here. He filled me in on a few surface details along the way.”

Breha Organa was a picture of serenity and humbleness that almost rivaled that of a Jedi. But Padmé also knew this was the woman who had blatantly leveraged her power to stand in the way of two powerful entities some years ago.

Obi-wan shrugged in helplessness.

Padmé’s handmaiden looked at her for guidance on what to do. Padmé simply nodded for her to excuse herself and directed her to take the children with her.

Then she said to everyone else, “Have a seat. I suppose.”

Breha swooped in to take the seat nearest to Anakin.

“How goes your recovery?”

Anakin sighed. “Much better now that I have you for company, Your Highness.”

If Breha was bothered by Anakin’s sarcasm, Breha didn’t show it. Padmé made a note to ask Bail or Ahsoka about how Breha and Anakin normally got along.

“Padmé,” her sister said. “Explanation. Now. How did a diplomatic mission turn into you joining up with a former Jedi general and capturing Separatists?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got nothing but time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos, comments, and subscriptions. I appreciate it! Keep it coming.


	14. Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Council makes a decision....

Luke and Leia Skywalker—Naberrie? Amidala? Ahsoka wasn’t sure what naming scheme Anakin and Padmé followed. She’d have to ask. Regardless, Padmé’s and Anakin’s twin children took one look at Ahsoka when Padmé formally introduced them at breakfast a few mornings after they’d returned and Ahsoka was present, looked at each other, and then Leia spoke.

“We know you! Daddy tells us about you sometimes,” she said. “He showed us a picture. You’re very pretty. I wish I had markings like yours.”

“Oh yeah?” Ahsoka asked, raising one of said markings above her eye. “What’s your dad say about me?”

Luke shrugged and, while trying to get a piece of his pancake on his fork, said, “Lots of stuff. That you’re a Jedi. That you fought with him. And that you kick ass.”

“Luke!” Anakin exclaimed.

“Anakin!” Padmé said firmly.

Ahsoka chuckled.

“Well, your dad’s right,” she said.

Luke’s frowned as he looked up at her. “Miss…”

“I’m not that old, Skyboy. Just call me Ahsoka.”

“Ahsoka,” Leia tested aloud while Luke slowly mouthed the syllables before nodding.

Then, “What’s it like being a Jedi?”

“How did you meet Daddy?”

“Why haven’t we seen you before? We see Obi-wan sometimes. He’s Daddy’s other Jedi friend.”

“What color is your lightsaber?”

“Can we touch your dangling things?”

“Leia,” Padmé warned.

Leia pouted and looked down. “Sorry, Mommy.”

Ahsoka laughed. “It’s okay, Padmé. I can handle it.” She turned back to the twins. “How about you all finish breakfast, and then we can go in the living room, and I’ll answer however many questions I can before I have to leave?”

The twins both nodded, rushing to finish their breakfast, much to their mother’s dismay. Then they hopped off their chairs, were directed by their mother to wash their hands, and then pulled Ahsoka into the living room before showering Ahsoka with the same questions and more. (“Interesting, to say the least.” “We met when we were paired up so he could teach me to be a Jedi.” “That’s something I have to talk about with your mom and dad first before I give you an answer.” “I have two lightsabers. A green one and a yellow one.” “I’m not upset that you asked that, Leia, but generally, it’s not polite to ask someone with lekku to touch them. They’re very personal to the people who have them.”)

The twins were nowhere near finished with their questioning before one of Padmé’s handmaidens came to collect them to get them dressed for the day and to stick to whatever schedule Padmé had them on. Before the two went, though, they looked at each other and nodded.

“I like you, Ahsoka,” Luke decided.

“I like you too,” Leia added.

Then the two dashed off.

Ahsoka turned to Anakin and Padmé, who had stayed close by just in case despite Ahsoka’s assurance that she could handle the twins. They looked caught between amusement and bemusement.

“What?” she asked.

“You’re… really good with them,” Padmé said.

“Yeah, the only other person besides us and the handmaidens who can handle all that is Obi-wan. Even Padmé’s family gets flustered by their questions and curiosity,” Anakin added.

Padmé gave Anakin a wry look. “Ani, _you_ get flustered by it sometimes.”

Ahsoka shrugged. “They are their father’s child. No different than dealing with Skyguy on a normal occasion. They’re actually a lot less neurotic.”

“Hey!”

Ahsoka laughed and looked directly at Padmé. “I have a feeling they’re their mother’s child too. Sola told me you never stopped asking questions for a minute when you were younger. That you only talked in questions.”

To Ahsoka’s delight, Padmé blushed.

She’d arrive at the apartment a few evenings to find Padmé spreading takeout on the coffee table for three unexpected guests. Breha was sitting in the chair nearest to Anakin, Obi-wan was across from Anakin and diagonal to Breha, and there was another brown-haired woman helping Padmé. Ahsoka found out later that she was Sola, Padmé’s older sister. While Breha seemed to have been placated about exactly what happened over the last couple of weeks, Sola had gestured for Ahsoka to sit next to her. She worked in intelligence on Naboo, and it showed with the intensity with which she asked even the most mundane of questions. Looking at Sola, Ahsoka could see even more why Anakin and Padmé got along. Sola had a similar intensity to Anakin. Obi-wan, the troll, didn’t contribute much for the evening, seeming to take personal satisfaction at her and Anakin’s expense.

In the end, Sola seemed satisfied with Ahsoka’s answers and began to tell her all about Padmé’s childhood, much to Padmé’s dismay. The three intruders hadn’t left until late in the evening, with Breha wrangling a promise out of Ahsoka that she’d come visit her sometime before she left the planet. She imagined (and Ahsoka had been right) that the woman had some thoughts about the fact that Ahsoka never mentioned Anakin was married.

“But really. You’re good with them,” Anakin said. He gave her a contemplative look. A look Ahsoka knew from experience meant Anakin was about to throw out some idea that Ahsoka wouldn’t like and would only mean trouble. “You and I should have one. A kid that is.”

Ahsoka choked on air. “What?”

“I think we’d make a cute kid. Do you think they’d be more human? Or would they be togruta? I knew a human/togruta hybrid on Tatooine. But you wouldn’t know it looking at them. They looked full togruta.”

Finally, Ahsoka decided to laugh. “Only if you carry it.”

Anakin scowled. “Now you know human men can’t do that.”

“Exactly. I am not having children, Anakin. With anyone. Ever. Not even you.”

“Why not?”

“Do you know what labor and childbirth for a togruta woman is like? It’s quicker than human’s but more painful typically. I would never willingly put myself through that.”

“So what you’re saying is that you’re not opposed to children. Just that you won’t carry them.”

“Anakin.”

“So would you be opposed if Padmé carried it for us?”

“Do I get a say in this?” Padmé asked, incredulously.

“Of course you do. I’m just trying to see if—”

“Skyguy. No,” Ahsoka said bluntly.

Anakin didn’t seem deterred. “Togruta women are fertile until they’re, like, sixty? Right?”

“How do you know that?” Ahsoka and Padmé asked.

Anakin ignored them. “So that means I have forty years to convince you. Not to say that I’d be disappointed if it was never. Just that I have time.”

“You would really want to raise a newborn in our _sixties_?” Ahsoka asked incredulously. Then she turned to Padmé. “See? This is what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t—”

Both Ahsoka’s and Anakin’s comms went off. Ahsoka frowned, her light and relaxed mood going away when she saw the message from the Council.

“What?” Padmé asked.

“It’s the Council,” Anakin replied solemnly. “They want to see us. I think they’ve made a decision.”

Ahsoka had come to the same conclusion, but something about hearing it out Anakin’s mouth made it real. That by the end of the day, she may not be a Jedi. That she may be going to her and Anakin’s apartment to clear out what few belongings she had before leaving. To do what? To go where? Ahsoka knew that at least for a while, even though she still wasn’t totally comfortable with it, she’d be staying with Anakin and Padmé. Not that she hated the idea. She’d been living with and loving for Anakin a while now. She could see herself getting there with Padmé. But despite their insistence otherwise, she still felt she was intruding on this picture. Perhaps though, that would change with time. And maybe the only way to feel part of it was to insert herself into the picture until one day she’d look back and not be able to see herself anywhere else. Like it had happened with Anakin.

“Come on, Snips,” Anakin said, reaching over to grab her hand. “Best not keep the Council waiting.”

Right. She was getting ahead of herself. Deal with the Council first.

“I’m sure everything will be fine,” Padmé assured them both with a small smile. “I’ll see you both later today.”

Even though Anakin was at the end of the brief recovery that he still insisted he didn’t need despite the fact that he’d spent the better part of it sleeping, Ahsoka did the driving. She almost regretted not letting Anakin drive, though. It was really easy to zone out and lose herself in her concerns about what might happen if she did end up having to leave the Order, whether by choice or by force.

“Everything is going to be fine,” Anakin stated from next to her.

Whether he was trying to convince her or convince himself, Ahsoka wasn’t sure.

“I’m not worried.”

“You’re projecting. Badly.” Then he reached over and grabbed her right hand while she continued to steer with the left. “Everything is going to be fine.”

Ahsoka didn’t reply and didn’t let go of Anakin’s hand until they reached the Temple to head to the top middle spire. Just as they had dozens and dozens of times before. Whether to receive instructions, receive a reprimand, make a request, give a briefing. But none of those times had ever felt so… Final? Absolute? Determinative? Either way, it felt different from all the other times.

When they arrived outside the chambers, they were made to wait. They stood in the spot that Ahsoka normally stood in when she was waiting for Anakin to come out the chambers after a Council meeting. It didn’t escape her that it could be the last time she was doing this.

“You know. Padmé told me about your ideal date.” Anakin must have seen the dismay start to creep into her expression because he said, “I don’t think it’s stupid. I probably would have teased you, but you could have told me about it.” A pause. “Have we ever gone out on an actual date?”

Ahsoka hesitated. Had they? It depended on what they considered a date. She didn’t remember much about her home planet. But from what she’d been taught, traditional courtship and dating revolved around their status as predators. Around the hunt. Could someone you had an interest in be someone who would have your back during the hunt? Could that person protect themselves if needed during the hunt? Could they protect you from the unseen dangers? Could they share the spoils of their hunt with you? Most importantly, had they shown that they were _willing_ to do any of that for you? As parts of Shili had become more industrialized and modern, more contemporary forms of dating had been introduced but with the traditional ways as their basis.

She supposed if she applied that to Anakin, all their battles during the war, her watching his back, him watching hers, throwing themselves into danger for the other, tagging along on a war cleanup missions or smuggling people out slavery along Liberty Lane, him helping her on the military side of the Clone Relief Initiative—it would all technically count.

“In a way, we have,” Ahsoka said. “But just to do something for the sole purpose of spending time together? No.” A thought came to her. “Unless… Do meditative retreats count?”

“Maybe,” Anakin replied. Then, “So what you’re saying is that I owe you a date—a lot of dates—too?”

“Why can’t I owe them to you?”

He chuckled. “I suppose you could.”

They fell into familiar, companionable silence. Then Anakin leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her lips.

“Not here,” Ahsoka said, jerking back when she remembered where they were.

“They already know. Thanks to you,” Anakin added with a smirk.

Before Ahsoka could reply to that, they were notified that they could enter the chambers.

When they were standing in the middle of the room, Ahsoka stood before them as demurely as she could manage with her hands clasped behind her back. Even Anakin had his hands clasped in front of him rather than crossing his arms over his chest. He was projecting, though, something that was either daring them to do their worst or to just get on with telling them whatever they had decided. Most people would consider it arrogant, but that was actually pretty humble for Anakin.

It was Master Yoda who began.

“Carefully considered, this council has, not just your confessed actions, but your years of service to this Order, and complete picture of a problem you represent.”

“Not to mention,” Obi-wan added, “that you, Knight Tano, made some valuable points regarding the interpretation of our code.”

“Points that this Council has, admittedly, denied the validity of when this topic has come up over the centuries,” Master Mundi replied. “Mostly out of a reluctance to face those issues.”

“But it’s unnecessary for us to go over everything that we discussed in our deliberations,” Master Windu said, cutting to the chase as always. “The short of it is that we’ve decided unanimously, but with varying concurrences, to allow you to remain within this Order and continue to pursue your romantic attachment. You’ve proven over the years that you’ve had no trouble keeping your duty to this order despite it. And in some cases, you’ve kept your duty to this order and the Republic because of it. You will still be closely watched and monitored. Consider yourselves a trial run to determine if others will be allowed this privilege.”

Ahsoka sensed there was more. A caveat. But first things first. Show that she was grateful.

“Thank you, Masters,” both she and Anakin said simultaneously.

“However, we cannot ignore the inherent dishonesty that you’ve made yourself a part of by lying to keep this violation of our rules secret.” Shaak Ti added gently. “On your part, Master Skywalker, hiding two relationships and children.”

There it was, Ahsoka thought to herself.

“As a result, you will both be facing punishment. Let it be known that this punishment only considers the most recent of the actions you’ve been participating in. If we considered more or had these revelations come to light at an earlier time, the consequences might have been more severe,” Master Windu warned.

That was their way of saying they were lucky no one had noticed or brought it to their direct attention during the war and the end of her apprenticeship. Almost seventeen and fighting in a war she may have been, but it had still been inappropriate in other ways. If this had been back then, at best, there was no doubt she and Anakin would have been separated and put on opposite ends of the galaxy for the remainder of the war and Ahsoka’s apprenticeship. At least. Ahsoka didn’t want to even contemplate what Anakin might have done if that had happened. She didn’t want to contemplate what she might have done.

“While we have elected that there’s no need to strip either of you of any rankings, neither of you will be permitted to take on a padawan for the next decade or until such a time that the Council can ascertain your honesty and integrity in these matters.”

Ahsoka supposed that was fair. They had to be sure this was a one-off of two people who might have been drawn to each other anyway. Two people that had been unwittingly put together under the most dire of circumstances in one of the most unorthodox student-teacher pairings. Or if the circumstances were the indication of a pattern. On Anakin’s part, mostly. But hers too. She hadn’t been in a rush to take on a padawan anyway. It was probably the quickest way to being made a Master but also not the only way. Not that she was even concerned about that.

“You’re both also grounded to Coruscant for the next three months,” Master Plo added. “During which time, Master Skywalker, you will not be permitted to occupy your seat as a long-term member of this Council.”

Ahsoka nudged Anakin along their bond before he could sass the Council with the response she sensed on the tip of his tongue. They were already in trouble.

“Longer this grounding might have been, for you especially, Knight Tano, given your direct disobedience of an order from the Council. But considered that your actions led to the capture and arrest of Separatist Council members, we did,” Master Yoda added.

The grounding was a little annoying. But Ahsoka could work around that.

“The Council has also considered,” Master Secura began sternly, though, Ahsoka got the feeling it wasn’t directed at her, “our own enablement of this given that we all were aware that some violation of the Code was happening. We fell prey to our own reluctance to face some of the fallacy of our old traditions. Fallacies confronting this violation would have made us to examine. Rest assured, though, the Council plans to be much more diligent and transparent about other violations that have come to our attention. Whether that be officially or unofficially.”

From the very thinly veiled irritation in her tone, Ahsoka got the feeling that Master Secura had been pressing to deal with this particular issue for a while. At least privately.

“Thank you, Masters,” Ahsoka finally replied.

“We humbly accept our punishment and extend our apologies for our violations,” Anakin added.

Ahsoka couldn’t quite tell if Anakin was sincere or not. There were none of his usual tells in the Force or in his tone that he was being sarcastic. But nor were there any tells of his sincerity.

“One more thing, there is,” Yoda added.

Ahsoka sensed something like amusement cutting across the solemn atmosphere in the room.

“As part of your punishment, Knight Tano, unanimously agreed, that appointed as the Jedi Order’s Senate representative, you shall be.”

Ahsoka’s mouth fell open. She should accept her punishment gracefully. It could be a lot worse. But she had been declining this offer since the Council had presented it to her two years ago. They’d been impressed with her work in service of the Clone Relief Initiative and asked if she’d extend her talents to representing the Order in the Senate. Ahsoka had _literally_ outright laughed in their faces as she declined. She worked with the Senate by necessity. Not choice. And she kept it to a minimum.

“You can’t… I don’t. That’s not fair!”

So much for gracefully accepting her punishment.

Next to her, Anakin coughed. Likely to hide a laugh. Ahsoka would deal with him later.

“You can kick me out the Order if you want to. I’ll leave right now. But making me deal with the Senate on a daily basis may as well be cruel and unusual punishment. They _still_ have problems with the Jedi. That’s without the problems they have with me. I’m still not allowed in the same room with Senator Taa.”

“We’re sure you’ll be able to use your skills to smooth such wrinkles out,” Obi-wan replied cheerfully.

Anakin outright laughed this time as he said, “Think of it this way, Snips. You’ll be a Jedi Master with a seat on the Council by the time you’re twenty-five at this rate.”

“I don’t care about that,” Ahsoka snapped. She should care. Especially in front of the High Council. Being made a Master was an honor. Being asked to sit on the High Council was the highest honor for a Jedi. She didn’t care, though. She really didn’t. Not if it meant this.

“It could be a great learning opportunity,” Anakin said, bumping his shoulder against hers.

“We’re glad you agree, Skywalker. You’ll be joining her for the duration of your grounding.”

“Wait. What?”

Normally, Ahsoka might have laughed. As it was…

“That’s even worse. He has the diplomacy of krayt dragon,” Ahsoka protested.

“Like you’re that much better,” he scoffed.

“You’ll get us both permanently banned from the Senate.”

“Now you’re exaggerating. They’ve never done that to anyone.”

“It’s _you_ , Anakin.”

“If allow, Senator Amidala does, bring your children to the Temple, I request. Meet them, I would like to. Dismissed, you both are,” Master Yoda said impishly.

“Masters!”

But it was no use. The Council had made their decision. Not only had they managed to punish her, they managed to take advantage of the situation to force her into something that she had been telling them she wouldn’t do. Such an underhanded tactic _couldn’t_ be the Jedi way. Then again, who was Ahsoka to complain? All things considered.

In the end, both Ahsoka and Anakin bowed before leaving the room.

“Let it never be said that revenge is not the Jedi way. This has to be because of all the trouble we’ve given them over the years,” Ahsoka grumbled.

“Don’t get me wrong, I agree with you. But think of it this way. We’re still Jedi,” Anakin pointed out.

Ahsoka stopped walking. She’d been so caught up listening to how they were being punished that she had almost forgotten that part. A couple of hours, days, weeks, months ago even, that had been what she’d wanted. She resigned herself to not being able to have that, but she’d been willing to take whatever punishment they’d dished out if they let her keep that.

Cruel as the Senate thing was, this was what she wanted. And… Well, she was at peace with that.

“Yeah. We are still Jedi.”

Ahsoka felt Anakin’s hand on hers, seeking to intertwine it. She almost instinctively knocked it away like she always did when they were in the Temple before remembering that they didn’t have to. She allowed him to intertwine his hands in hers.

Discretion had not been part of the Council’s stipulations, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Yes. This is the most unoriginal chapter title ever.
> 
> 2) So, one of the things that I've noticed in reading fanfics is that in many alternate universes when Anakin gets caught in his deceptions, he either gets off scotch free and the Council is willing to overlook all of it to let him stay a Jedi (without exploring the delicious tension that would cause) and have his attachments or he leaves, and it’s happily ever after. And don’t get me wrong. I like those stories. But neither of those endings would fit this story and wouldn't match the tone of this story.
> 
> Honestly, I really think in any situation, the Council would be reluctant to just let Anakin leave. They couldn’t stop him if he did, but also I think they would be terrified what he might get into on his own. So the best place for Anakin to be in their eyes would be where they could keep an eye on him. Hence the “closely watched and monitored.” Now, that’s probably not going to work out the way they think, but at least it keeps the Force’s powerful child nearby.
> 
> Thank you for all the kudos, comments, and subscriptions. I appreciate it! Keep it coming.


	15. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a lot has changed for Anakin, but for the better. And some things have stayed just the same...

When Anakin awoke, the first thing he noticed was that both Ahsoka and Padmé were gone from bed. That was pretty typical, though. They were all used to early mornings in one way or another, but Padmé and Ahsoka still tended to rise earlier than he did nowadays.

The next thing he noticed was noise from both the kitchen and the fresher attached to their bedroom. He decided to check the kitchen first.

“Good morning, Skyguy,” Ahsoka said before he’d even rounded the corner into the dining area.

“Morning, Snips,” he said, walking over to her and pressing a peck on her lips.

When he pulled away, she frowned. “Yuck. You haven’t brushed your teeth yet, have you? I told you about doing that.”

“I’m pretty sure during the war, we got up to much more scandalous things in much less hygienic conditions,” Anakin replied.

He turned his attention to the two-year-old on Ahsoka’s hip.

“We’re not at war anymore, Anakin,” Ahsoka said as she made her way over to the counter where she’d taken out an assortment of fruit. She took a knife in her free hand and, with the help of the Force, began to cut open a melon.

“Here. Let me take her,” Anakin said, reaching out to take Lani from Ahsoka.

The dark-haired, dark-eyed girl shrank away from him, tucking closer into Ahsoka’s shoulder and lek. Anakin wasn’t offended. Lani was like that in the morning, clinging sleepily to Ahsoka until she was fully awake or unless Ahsoka offered her to him or Padmé. This morning Ahsoka did not.

To think, he and Padmé had been worried when Padmé became pregnant again, not long after they’d reformed their family around all three of them.

While Ahsoka had taken naturally to the twins, she’d been particularly uninterested in parenting. Quite content to be the fun and lenient aunt or even the more fun and lenient, cool older sister to Luke and Leia. But otherwise didn’t consider their existence when she made plans to go off-world. Whether chasing an objective for the Jedi or, when Rex roped her into it, dealing with a hiccup in administering the second clone relief legislation that had (finally) passed through the Senate. It was easy to not worry about it too much with the twins. Besides, as Anakin and Padmé had been told by Obi-wan when they mentioned the concern to him, Ahsoka—for all that she acted in capacities far beyond her years on a daily basis—was still relatively young. They all were. But especially her. Still getting used to their new relationship and both those relationships being suddenly very public and the subject of media scrutiny. She’d step up to it when she was ready like she did everything else.

Still. Babies didn’t tend to _wait_ for someone to be ready to step up.

However, when Padmé had gone into labor two months early while Anakin was off-planet, Ahsoka had proven all their fears wrong. She’d stayed with Padmé for the birth, and once Padmé and Lani were stable, had taken it upon herself to see to the twins. Getting them to school in the mornings, picking them up, helping them with homework, and other things Anakin and Padmé usually did for them rather than delegating it to handmaidens. When Padmé had been released from the hospital, she’d been the one to stay long hours at the medical center with Lani so Padmé could rest and recover. By the time Anakin got back a long two weeks later, Ahsoka was a tad overwhelmed but going on like she’d always had these responsibilities. She even continued to take on the brunt of the parenting and household tasks that Padmé usually handled for the duration of Padmé’s recovery.

Even more surprising to Anakin and Padmé was the close bond she developed with Lani. Now, two years later, Ahsoka was unquestionably Lani’s preferred and primary parent. There had been a few jealousy issues to work out between Ahsoka and Padmé when Padmé realized that was happening. But they’d managed to smooth those over. Mostly. They bickered about it every now and then.

“ _Natti,_ ” Lani muttered. _Natti_ was one of many togruta words for mother (but not birth mother or tribe or community mother) with a soft clicking noise at the beginning that out of the entire family only Ahsoka and Lani managed consistently.

Lani pointed to the fruit Ahsoka was cutting.

Ahsoka used the Force to levitate a piece of the fruit to Lani, who swiped it out the air and began to suck on it while continuing to cuddle into Ahsoka’s shoulder.

“Ahsoka, what have I told you about holding Lani while doing that. Lani’s hand could get in the way while you’re cutting,” Padmé said, coming into the room dressed.

She pressed a kiss on Anakin’s lips on the way to the counter.

“She knows not to do that,” Ahsoka replied after a good morning kiss from Padmé too.

Padmé still guided Ahsoka out the way, took the knife, and began to cut the fruit herself.

“Ahsoka,” Padmé began in _that_ tone.

“Yes, Senator,” Ahsoka all but sang.

Padmé paused cutting to look directly at Ahsoka.

“I have been working on this anti-slavery enforcement bill since I first came to the Senate. The only reason I ever put it aside was because of Palpatine and the Separatist Crisis. I’ve got most of the Senate's sympathy and the outright support of a lot of younger Senators who were elected after and grew up during the war. _Do not_ start any conflicts until _after_ the vote at the end of the week.”

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. Senator Taa is directly benefiting from the black market slave trafficking on his planet. He enables it. Two of his servants are definitely slaves. _Everyone_ knows it.”

“And I’m working on it, but now is not the time to piss people off because of your perceived lack of decorum and have them voting against my bill out of pettiness because of our relationship,” Padmé argued.

“If they would vote against a bill that’s obviously the right thing to do because they’re mad that I don’t give them the benefit of the doubt, then they need to be run out the Senate anyway.”

“Ahsoka.”

“I hope that woman running against Taa utterly demolishes him during Ryloth’s elections this year,” Ahsoka muttered. “Who in the hell keeps voting for Taa, to begin with?”

“You can go right back to scandalizing everyone after my bill is passed.”

“It’s so dumb that you have to pass a bill to enforce laws already on the book.”

Lani sat up, looked at Ahsoka, and asked, “It’s dumb?”

“Yes. The Senate is dumb.”

Lani went back to cuddling into Ahsoka’s shoulder and lek.

“Don’t teach her that,” said Padmé.

“Why not? It’s true,” Ahsoka said. She pressed a kiss to Lani’s forehead.

“Besides,” Padmé continued, choosing to ignore Ahsoka, “getting this bill passed will help the passing of the clone’s bill to outlaw those obedience and supposed anti-aggression chips.”

Ahsoka still didn’t look happy but made a gesture that likely meant agreement. Anakin would have to see if the Council had an easy mission to send her on to keep her away until the vote. Or maybe he just needed to call Breha or Bail and ask them to given Ahsoka a quick task to complete on Alderaan. That worked the last time Padmé and Ahsoka had come into conflict because of something Ahsoka shouldn’t have said at the Senate.

While the Council had forbidden Anakin from aiding with Jedi Senate relations at all when they realized Anakin was too much of a hindrance for it to be worth the initial punishment, Ahsoka had stuck with it. It didn’t keep her off-planet. Once her grounding had been lifted, she’d gone back to taking missions across the galaxy. But Anakin had been sure Ahsoka would find a way to wiggle out being the Jedi’s Senate liaison. She complained about it often but hadn’t asked the Council to relieve her from the duty. Anakin wasn’t complaining about it. Ahsoka always made boring Council meetings much more lively when she came to give her bi-weekly reports and suggestions. Still, Anakin had been curious.

_“It makes me feel like a Jedi. Not a soldier. Peacekeepers. You know, what they taught us when we were little.”_

Anakin sympathized with that. Even with the war far past gone, Anakin still struggled to make peace with what being a Jedi meant for him during the war and now during peacetime. Perhaps, even beyond his guilt for being part of the reason for the war, that was the reason he’d spent so much time chasing the remnants of it. Because he didn’t know how to be a Jedi otherwise. Anakin still wasn’t _exactly_ sure. But he found other ways to keep himself busy. And his life was far from lacking in excitement.

“Ahsoka, do me a favor and check to make sure the twins are getting ready. I woke them up, but you know Luke is liable to get back in bed, and Leia won’t get him back up,” Padmé said.

When Ahsoka left, Anakin turned to Padmé and asked, “You okay?”

“Fine. Just ready to finally get this bill passed.”

Not ready to be done with it. But excited to see something accomplished. Excited to see its enforcement and the way it would help improve the galaxy. He hadn’t known that excitement was missing from Padmé about her work until it slowly began to return after the war. After every bill she fought for was just a measure passed to mitigate the damage being done by the war and, unknowingly, Palpatine. How the career she claimed to love had become a chore to trudge through every day.

Anakin hadn’t realized how much the war had been destroying her too. Beyond the issues she dealt with concerning him. He didn’t think Padmé realized it either. Perhaps she never would. Always convinced that because people had it so much worse than her, things were never bad for her. Maybe her complaining about it publicly would be in bad taste when she had so much more than most, but he wished she’d open up about it more to him. Or maybe she had to Ahsoka. Anakin would have to ask.

“Now you. Go get dressed,” Padmé ordered. “We asked Obi-wan to come and escort you to the temple in an hour. Ahsoka and I promised Master Windu that we’d try to make sure you weren’t late this morning.”

Anakin went to do as instructed, but he would never understand exactly how Ahsoka and Padmé suddenly held Windu in such high esteem. And… Okay. _Maybe_ he was exaggerating with that phrasing. Either way, both insisted that Windu wasn’t _as_ bad as Anakin always made him out to be. Anakin didn’t know what to think of that. Maybe Windu had been that bad but wasn’t anymore. Maybe this all went back to when he first stood before the Council, and they rejected him because he was fearful. And back then, he hadn’t had the guts or the words to say that he missed his mom and was scared what would happen to her in slavery by herself. It wasn’t as though the Council had known that back then. So, perhaps a misunderstanding and a bad first impression all around? Along with all the rebellion and secrets and lying? Maybe?

Even if it hadn’t been a misunderstanding, there was something to be said for growth. He couldn’t _always_ judge people _solely_ based on the past or even _just_ his personal experiences with them. At least, that’s what the mind healers said, and maybe that was more true. Windu had been the one to allow Ahsoka and Padmé to continue investigating when Anakin disappeared. He’d also encouraged Ahsoka to argue why they should be allowed to stay in the Order. He’d also been the one to give Anakin leave from his duties for a month when Lani had born. Although, Windu hadn’t said it that way. Specifically, the man had said, _“Don’t come back until you’re not distracted with your personal issues. I expect that’s going to take at least a month, Skywalker.”_

So maybe Ahsoka and Padmé were right that Windu _maybe_ wasn’t so bad. Anakin was still never going to be friends with the man. Civil (mostly) work acquaintances at best.

When he returned, Lani was sitting in her highchair giggling over breakfast with Luke and Leia. Ahsoka and Padmé were leaning together over a datapad, breaking the no work and no electronics at meals rule that Padmé had instated.

Anakin stopped to take in the scene. He really loved those two women, even if they liked to gang up on him. He couldn’t believe they loved him back. In spite of everything.

“Ani,” Padmé began without looking up. “We were thinking during the children’s school break we could go to Naboo. We haven’t seen my family in a while. And Pooja’s itching to get involved in politics and wants Ahsoka’s and my advice on whether she should run for queen or skip all that and intern at the Senate.”

“I think she should skip it all and go become a teacher or something like that. At least children have the excuse of actually being children when they act like children. Politicians don’t,” Ahsoka stated.

Padmé giggled.

When Anakin didn’t answer, Ahsoka and Padmé both looked up at him.

“What?” they asked simultaneously.

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

Ahsoka raised an eye marking, and Padmé raised an arched brow on the same side.

“You were smiling about something,” said Ahsoka.

“Just had a good thought.”

Neither asked him what the thought was, but they both gave a smile in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might write some more ficlets of this universe. Lani’s birth. What Luke and Leia think when Ahsoka is introduced into their lives. A ficlet from Obi-wan’s POV. Just little scenes really. But other than that, I don’t have much interest expanding on this universe.
> 
> This was a nice light writing exercise for me. And okay. I know some of you are like… this was light? Look, when my last fic was almost 300k words and 86 chapters and took almost a year to post, yes. This is light. A breather before I getting into writer another long, complicated fic that I really hope I can keep to… 50 chapters… though I may do that one in installments. We shall see. That’s probably a 2022 project or an end of 2021 thing. I’m currently outlining it in my head. Trying to figure out where and how I want it to end and what I want it to say. Yes it’s the dark/Sith Ahsoka fic I’ve been swearing I would rewrite. Yes it’s… a very complicated Anisoka fic (more complicated than HtTaE for a lot of reasons). And you think I went certain places with this fic and HtTaE… I am going some places with that fic. But you’ll get more details on that in the next few months. 
> 
> Until then, I’m going back to HtTaE universe with _You’re Cordially Invited_ … when I get around to finishing it because… well, that fic has also gotten a little longer than I thought it would be… But for all my HtTaE readers, I’m providing a sneak peek **IN THE COMMENTS**. If you haven’t read HtTaE or you care about spoilers, just don't read that comment. For everyone else, enjoy the sneak peak. Liable to be edited by the time I post the story, but it's going to be pretty much the same.
> 
> Anywho, thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed. Until next time, LadyDae out.


End file.
